CrossRoads
by hansolo18
Summary: When a girl from our century is offered a difficult decision, stay safe in the 21st century or go back in time and help out the men of Easy Comapany, she can only hope she made the right one. A differnt take on the 'Went back in time set up' Speirs/OC
1. Across the Universe

**-Author note- it is a bit slow to start please wait it out. Also I would Like to Introduce my Fantastic New Beta and good friend SAM! So Yeah enjoy-**

It was my grandfather who got me interested in history. The reason remained unknown to me, for I had never met the man within my own recollection. He died two months before I was born. Yet it was still he who sparked my interest. My father noticed my interest and tried to get me into his own personal love, the Civil War. His attempts were failures, and he was forced to advocate to my own desire.

I had always had a fascination with wars and their workings. But it was the summer before eight grade that my connection with the Second World War was forged. For that summer was the first time I saw _Saving Private Ryan_, and more importantly Spielberg's other series _Band of Brothers_. From the first episode I felt and unexplainable connection with the men. But it wasn't until the summer of my freshman year of college that I found out why.

A phone call interrupted the empty silence of my room, each ring bringing me out of the enveloping darkness of sleep. It stopped just before its final ring and I was alone once more.

I opened my eyes and the clock blared in my face. 9:30 a.m. I sat up and stretched before opening the door and letting the outside world into my life. It wasn't anything like I expected.

Mom leaned against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks, one hand was over her eyes and the other loosely held the phone.

"Mom!" I cried grabbing she shoulders gently "Mom, what's wrong!?".

"My mother,' She wailed,' She's gone Fey…Annette said she died this morning. The funerals already set."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The funeral took place three days later in Boston. The funeral was small, only family and close friends attended. To me it seemed as if Grandma was six feet under before I could blink. The wake was depressing and all had an early night. The next day Mom and Aunt Annette were squabbling over the fine china. My older brother Antoine and I were too busy poking around the attic to notice.

"Hey! Fey check this out!" Antoine held an old wooden chest the size of a shoe box in his hands. He passed it to me and stood by my shoulder as I opened it. My eyes landed upon camouflage cloth. I touched it gently and discovered it was silk before carefully picking it up and unfolding it. All in all,the cloth was about the size of a twin bed sheet. Antoine took the sheet from me and I looked back into the box, a small medal gleamed up at me. I recognized it immediately. It was the Congressional Medal of Honor.

We returned home a day later. Aunt Annette let me have the box and its contents. That night I slept with the silken sheet around me.

There are dreams I like to call real place dreams because they take place in places you know. I find they are often the scariest because you don't know if it's real or not.

That night I found myself in one of those dreams. I was in my room and all was quiet, but as I looked around I realized I was not alone.

"Grandpère?" I asked.

The man nodded and smiled. He looked just as he did the in the old pictures. "I need you to help them, Fey."

"Help them?" I repeated.

Jack LaRue nodded quickly. "Will you help them?" He asked again urgency leaking into his voice.

"Grandpère who?!"

"You must help them Fey!" He cried.

"I will! I will!" I screamed.

I woke up in a cold sweat the words thank you echoing through my mind.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The last week of May passed by in a slow crawl, I feared going to sleep because of my dream. It was the night of June 6th when I had another.

The dark silence of my room was interrupted by an explosive boom. The sky was alight with fireballs and there was the constant _rat tat tat_ of guns. I found myself in a dark forest. Fear enveloped my senses and I huddled next to the trunk of a tree, arms tight around my body. "Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?" I muttered to myself. _SNAP_! Above me! Twigs started to rain down on me and I fled with a yelp before hiding behind another tree. I peeked around the trunk and saw a man. A paratrooper by the looks of it, hung up on the tree. He swore quietly as he reached around for a knife and cut himself loose. He fell a few meters to the ground, pulled his gun out and looked around. My breath was coming in gasps that I did my best to stifle. I began to back up, slowly trying to get away from the man. _Snap!_ I swore.

"FLASH!" He called.

I knew the answer! I knew the answer! My fear was erupting from me in waves. I was the zebra under the lion's cold stare. I turned and ran like the scared gazelle I was. The man opened fire. A wave of pain rose upon my shoulders as hot metal dove under my skin. I let out a horrified gasp and fell to the ground. I never felt the impact.

My eyes opened and in my room once more. I was gasping for breath and there was a dull throb in my shoulders.

"You're just fine darling." A voice said.

I jumped out of my skin and let out a shriek. The lights turned on and a beautiful man in white stood before me. He smiled calmly and offered his hand. "Hello Fey, I'm Angelo. I have an offer for you."

"I-I don't want any damn offer from a pedophile!" I shrieked pulling the covers close to me body.

He shook his head as if I were a misbehaving child. "Cheri, calm. This is very important. You do remember your promise, yes? You promised to help. I am here to help you fulfill that promise, yes?" He offered his hand once more.

I looked at it fearfully. "How do you know of my promise to Grandpère?"

He smiled and said. "Cause I sent your grandfather. You've always felt a connection, Cheri. I have an offer that will let you see why."

I took his hand hesitantly and he pulled me out of my bed. But it felt as if he were pulling an oyster out of its shell and I was the juicy meat inside. I turned from him to look at my bed and let out a surprised gasp. I saw myself laying there. A worried look etched across my face.

I turned to the man whose hair was bleached blond. "SHIT! What's going on?"

He smiled calmly.

"That's the half of you you left behind."

"I left... What?" I was distressed.

He smiled and took my hands again. He looked me straight in the eyes and said. "We're at a cross roads you and I. And you have a choice to make my darling."

I gaped at him.

"You can return to the past to where you were in your dream to be more exact. And help the men your Grandpère requested you to. At first you will be like a ghost. Only one or two men will be able to see you, to hear you, touch you, but the number will grow with time. While you are in this ghostly state you cannot die and you have the choice to return to your future. If you choose to do so, the promise will be broken and you will forget you were ever there.

"But if you stay so long that every man can see you. You will loose your ghostly quality and you will be as solid as anyone or anything else. If that happens your fate is sealed. You will stay with those men for the rest of your life. You cannot return to the future. Your only hope for closure is to live your life and wait and meet up with your other half many years later."

I gaped at him. "You… you want me to believe this shit? It's completely impossible! Only god could do something like that!"

Angelo looked at me seriously. "Like I said were at a crossroads you and I. The question is. Will you take destiny into your own hands?"

I looked at him for a moment then around my room. My other half slept peacefully, silk sheet around her body. I looked at Grandpère's Medal of Honor that sat on my bedside table. I picked it up and placed it in my pocket. "You really don't give a girl much choice do you? I go and I stay or I go and I leave. Let's give it a shot."


	2. Reroll and Try Again

**CHAPTER HAS BEEN REVISED again. **

Angelo smiled at me. "Goodbye my child. Be safe." He touched his finger to my forehead and my eyes lids grew heavy. The room blurred before me and I heard the sound of a distant explosion.

The sky was alight with fire as the continuous _rat tat tat _of distant anti-aircraft guns pierced the silence of the dark forest. I stood next to the tree all of it in. Unlike the dream I felt no fear just endless confusion. There was a _Snap _above me and twigs and leaves rained down. I fled and hid behind a tree, once again peaking around the trunk at the paratrooper. He cut himself down and landed on the ground with a solid thump. He grunted as he stood up pulling out his gun before looking around. Fear rushed over me as I remembered what happened when I met the man last time. I began to back up, desperately trying to put distance in-between me and the soldier. _SNAP!_ That damn twig again. I swore quietly.

"FLASH!" He called in a hoarse whisper.

OH God. What was it they always said in those D-Day movies... something about a storm….Lightning and…"Thunder!" I answered whispering franticly hoping it was the right word.

He lowered his weapon and moved slowly towards me. I trembled in fear as he approached. He stopped three feet away. I could tell he was tall and well muscled in the darkness, but his face remained a blur. He wore the World War Two uniform that I had become so accustomed to from the movies. I craned my neck to see his company patch but it was too dark.

"Do you know where we are, sir?" I asked fear pulsing thorough my veins.

He shook his head and moved to my shoulder. "I was hoping you knew. The planes got so messed up we could be miles away from the invasion."

I shifted nervously. Angelo's words entered my mind. This man must be one of the men Grandpère asked me to protect. But what confused me more was that the man saw nothing wrong with chatting up a girl in her PJ's. I moved my arm to check. A jacket, more importantly THE jacket. He thought I was soldier, a paratrooper. Dear god this dream kept getting worse and worse.

"What's your name soldier?" He whispered motioning for me to follow him. He held his gun before him ready to fire. "You haven't got a gun on you?"

I reacted quickly saying the first thing that came to mind. "No sir, it must have gotten lost in the jump. Fey Russo. And you sir?"

He looked back at me as if trying to stick the name to my face. "Buck Compton."

We picked out way carefully through the ruff terrain. The bushes rustled and Buck swung his gun to face them. "Flash!" He whispered.

"Thunder." Voices called in return.

We tramped out of the bushes and came face to face with a group of nine paratroopers. "Dick!" Compton whispered happily.

A man near the front of the group spoke. "It's good to see you Buck." A few other voices called out greetings but the first man continued on. "Have you found any of our guys?"

Buck glanced at me and opened his mouth but I quickly interrupted. "No Buck don't!" He closed his mouth and his eyebrows scrunched together when he saw that none of the other men reacted to my voice.

"No sir." Buck said, confusion leaking into his voice. He hid the emotion by asking a question. "Do you know where we are?"

The man dubbed as Dick shrugged. "Not in our DZ. We're a few miles from the town where we meet the others." He waved his hand forward. "Let's go."

The group followed and I stayed close to Buck. He and I brought up the rear. He shifted nervously beside me glancing my way every few steps.

"Listen, Sir," I said nervously. "You have to hear me out. This is going to sound crazy, but please, don't interrupt. I'm sorry to say but you're the only person who can see me or hear me for that matter.

"Angelo, The guy who got me into this mess, said that only one or two people would be able to see me at first, then as time goes by others will too. I really don't understand it. But Buck you have to trust me. I'm doing my best to make things work."

He frowned slightly upon hearing the news and tired to work it out in his head. He nodded slightly, possibly accepting the story or just deciding to play along.

We found our way out of the woods just in time to see the sun peek above the horizon. We then traveled along the trees line which was bordered by a grassy field. I could see a water silo up ahead and smell smoke. Dick Winters, whose last name I recalled once I could see his face, raised his hand for us to stop. I hunkered down next to Winters as the men formed two columns behind us. A farmhouse was smoldering, some flames continued to burn. "Lipton, Popeye!" Dick whispered. The two men started forward and looked around the house, then motioned us in.

A dead paratrooper hung from a tree by the farmhouse while other bodies were scattered around. Bile rose in my throat as I looked upon the gruesome scene. Another man who stood near looked as if he were close to ripping someone's head off. Lipton knelt down next to a body. "If you need supplies or ammo now's the time to get it."

As the men began to scrounge a high pitched zoom came from overhead. Lipton looked up, "It's the Navy. The invasions started. Let's go."

We took off once more, heading past the water silo and onto a worn dirt road lined with trees. On a rise just to the side of the road sat German POWs. Winters exchanged pleasantries with the soldier guarding them. I stopped for a moment and looked at them. They were men, no older then the soldiers I was walking with now. I was enveloped by pity and tears pricked at my eyes. Compton noticed my lagging and suavely brushed my arm as he passed giving the slightest jerk of head. An order to move on.

I began to walk, emotions eating at my conscious, when one of the men yelled for Malarkey , who had stopped to chat with one of the POWs. "Stop fraternizing with the enemy!" The soldier called. Malarkey waved him off.

I returned to Bucks side and as soon as we walked into the town, men started to call for there friends. "Popeye! Hey Popeye!" Shouts came from all around.

Winters and Buck split up momentarily to go get information. We met at a cleared out barn that served as makeshift HQ.

"What's going on?" Buck asked looking around the tent, large guns could be heard firing in the west. Aides and other officers scrambled around the tent, boxes and papers already overflowed the area.

"What's the hold up?" Dick shot back pulling a slip of paper from his pocket.

"Not sure."

I stared wide eyed at the bustle around me. Compton, now half used to my presence, ignored me.

A shot rang through the building. "Bet its something to do with that." Buck muttered.

"What's the situation?" Winters asked.

"Ah, not good. Some men are still unaccounted for."

"Lieutenant Meehan?"

"No ones seen him or heard from him or his plane,' Buck paused thinking it over.' If he's missing wouldn't that put you in line to be the next commander?"

Winters looked at him in silence then glanced over at where I stood. I held my breath thinking that maybe he could see me. "Hey lieutenant Speirs."

I looked behind me as the man walked over. My heart thumped in my chest when he stopped beside me and shook Winter's hand. I had always liked the crazy lieutenant for reasons unknown to me. When the men dropped hands I could see Speirs eye flick on me for a moment. His eyebrows scrunched. "Lieutenant Speirs?" I asked. Buck glanced at me but Speirs didn't react. I don't believe he could see me.

"How many men of Dog Company got assembled?" Winters asked.

Speirs shook his head slightly. "A handful…maybe twenty." He said quietly his voice had a slight southern twang.

"Are you the only officer that made it?"

"So far." I swear, I was in love. Speirs looked at Buck distractedly. "Hey you got some cigarettes?" Buck looked at him confused for a moment then dug in his pocket.

"Here." His voice was quiet, slightly put off. Speirs took them and walked off. "Hey keep the pack!" Buck chided, his deep voice booming in the crowded barn. I felt around my own pockets and drew a pack. I blushed slightly as I reached over and placed it in his pocket while Winters watched Speirs leave. A bit of color crossed his own face but it quickly disappeared and he gave me the slightest nod of appreciation.

Buck and Winters left the tent and took a seat by the road with their men. I sat beside them watching the confusion of the men who found their way into town.

I grew bored with the mayhem and started to talk at Lieutenant Compton, trying to ease my shattered emotions. He remained half aware that I was there, but his thought wondered elsewhere. To his credit, every once in a while he would give the slightest nod, or shake of head to what I said.

I was in the process of telling him about my dog, a lovely female English setter named Sadie when a soldier walked up.

"You see Lieutenant Meehan?"

"No not yet." Buck replied lazily.

"They want Easy Company's CO up front." The soldier said. Winters looked at Compton.

"I guess that means you Dick." The soldier urged him on and the two left. Compton looked at me and said. "Son of a bitch."

"You're completely right."

Dick returned to our small group not long after and picked up the rest of his men. Then headed back to HQ to tell us the news.

"The eighty-eights we've been hearing have been spotted in a field down the road a ways. Major Strayer wants us to take them out. There are two guns that we know of." He drew two X's on the paper he had before him. "Firing on Utah beach. We plan on a third and fourth here and here. "He drew two more X's to the side of the two original guns."The Germans are in the trenches with access to the entire battery with a machine gun covering the rear. We'll establish a base of fire and move onto it hard and fast in squads of three.

"How many krauts do you think we're facing?" A man with a Philly accent asked. I focused on his face and smiled when I realized who it was. Bill Guarnere, one of my favorite men. I hated it when he got hurt in the series, I cry every time I see Guarnere and Toye get hit.

On that thought, I looked at the men who stood around the table, trying to memorize the faces of the men who would eventually be able to see mine. I didn't want them to end up like the paratroopers in the field. I had made a promise and I decided right then; I would not break it. No matter how hard things got or how demented this whole thing was I would not take the easy way out and go home.


	3. Disobeying Orders

I followed the men out of the barn and watched them get ready to go and attack the guns.

Leibgott, Petty had a machine gun to take out While Plessa and Hendrix had the other. Buck with Malarkey, Toye, and Bill Guarnere, made up one of the main attack forces.

I stood near Compton as he picked up ammo for his men. "Fey." I looked at him shocked that he was actually talking to me. His lips were barely moving and I had to strain to hear his voice over the crowd even though I was so close. "You cannot come with us during the assault."

I glared at him. "Who do think you are telling me what I can and can't do?!"

He glared back "Your superior officer!" His voice got even quieter, but his words were sharp.

"I'm not even in your goddamned army! I'm not even from the same damn time period!"

"As long as you're wearing that uniform you are. And I order you to stay here. You can't go rushing into the sunset with two grenades and a knife."

I frowned. "How would you even know if I stayed? It's not like you can put me under guard. You're the only one who can see me and I'm sure that would go well anyway. 'Soldier, watch this invisible dame for me while I go and take out a battery. Don't worry that you can't see her or touch her, she's right there.' Yeah that would fly."

He glared. "You follow orders and stay here. If you don't I'll find a way to punish you. Invisible or not." He turned from me and started to divvy out supplies.

"Compton lets go!" Winters called. The men headed out with much commotion. As soon as they were around the bend I ran into the forest and followed.

The paratroopers cut through a cabbage field which bordered their target. They crouched behind a fence and moved slowly towards are guns, looking for the officers hand signals along the way. Part of a wall between the cabbage field and the machine guns was a broken down farm truck. I found a nice bolder to hide behind and wait for them to move on.

Winters crawled into the car and it looked as if he were getting a good view of the guns. He turned and talked to three Non-Coms. These three men hung back as the other soldiers began to move into position.

Winters and Buck moved on and I watched as Dick pointed at the car then the German bunker. The two men and their respective groups moved into position.

Fire erupted from the machine guns to the side of the bunker as my boys began to pour shots onto them. The Germans began to yell and fired at our hidden troops. Bullets flew from all around and some of the Jerry's were struck. It seemed as if for the moment the boys were safe.

I began to crawl towards the fight, fear and adrenalin pulsating through my body. I tried to stay as far away from Buck's sight as possible. I hunkered down beside some scraggily shrubbery and strained to view the fight. To the left I could see Compton's group, and if I squinted a bit at the shrubs to my right I could catch a flash of Winter's red hair.

Buck, Guarnere, and Joe Toye crawled up close to the German machine guns and Buck motioned at the others. The pantomime meant little to me, but the men took grenades from theirs vests, pulled the pin, and gave them a toss. The hand bombs flew like baseballs, exploding as they hit the ground. The three assault squads attacked as soon as the grenades hit home.

I moved after the men, pulling up into their previously occupied spots. I looked around for a better vantage point, a tree caught my eye. I ran over and cautiously placed my hand on the lowest branch. I climbed with the same deliberate pace(for I had never gotten over my fear of heights), and swore shakily as one of the branches broke beneath my feet. I edged myself onto one of the thicker branches and gazed out over the field of war.

Buck, Bill, and Joe made it into the trenches that connected the guns together, but I lost them in an explosion of dirt. Winters and his men charged across the field, bullets flying into the dirt scant inches away from their feet.

My body was tight as they charged in, bullets and mortar rounds bursting about them. Winters made it into the trench and his men followed.

I lost track of the men as they ran along the trenches and I crawled down from the tree and started to inch my way forward. "GERNADE!" A yell came from where I had last seen Compton. The men jumped out and crawled over the rise just before it exploded. Even as the dirt still flew they were back in.

I jumped up and ran, ripping a grenade from my vest and dove into the trench. I glimpsed the backs of the men heading to the right so I went left. My breath was coming out in short gasps and the sensible side of my self was screaming bloody murder.

I sprinted down the trenches, past German soldiers who didn't even notice as I rushed by. As I turned the corner, I came face to face with one who did. He screamed and pulled the trigger. My body jerked as the bullet slammed into my shoulder. My shoulder was on fire as if twenty thousand ice cold needles were being jammed into my skin. An unearthly howl left my lips as I tottered backwards into the dirt. I scrambled with my one good arm to move back away from the man but he made no action towards me. He just turned back to the line and began to fire.

I gasped staring at him and put my hand to my shoulder to stop the blood I knew would be spilling from the wound. Except there was none. I ventured a glance. There was no red stain on the cloth of my jacket; the only sign that I had been hit was a bullet hole through the cloth and the dulling throb. I swore in disbelief and stood shakily up. The German made no motion just stared ahead with glazed eyes.

An explosion from one of the gun bunkers brought me back to reality and I grabbed my fallen grenade and tottered forward, closer to my objective. A second explosion pushed me faster. I had to do what I could at the remaining guns and get my ass out of there. Even if I did disobey Compton's orders, there was no way I was going to let him find out and lose my only ally.

Gunfire was closing in on my objective and I saw Speirs running towards it from the other direction. I came to a halt as the men who followed him fell to the ground. Sympathy washed over me having had two close shots myself. I turned and saw the men on the other side of the battery pull themselves out of the trench and run back into the forest. I swore as I frantically crawled over the side of the trench and took off to after them.

By some miracle of god I made it home before the boys did. If only just barely. I was breathing like a 7th grader who just finished the mile run in the middle of August. There would be no hiding it if Compton found me. So I did the best I could to find a spot to hide until my breath calmed.

It took thirty minutes for Buck to ditch his friends and track me down. I had moved quite a few times to stop him from finding me. Unfortunately luck wasn't in my favor that day and he found me anyway. My latest hiding spot was one top of one of the supply trucks. With their canvas roofs it wasn't too hard to make myself comfortable.

He glanced at me and looked around for the closest man who was about four meters off. "Get down from there." He ordered quietly. I followed his order sure that I had him fooled. He looked me up and down and gave the slightest smile, "When did you get hit?"

Shit. I tried to play stupid. "What are you talking about sir? I didn't leave town."

He chuckled. "Sure you didn't." He reached over and gave the hole in my jacket a tug. "I saw you running back. Its hard to believe you can move that fast."

I flushed. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me sir."

"Walk with me,' He was silent for a moment,' There are a lot of things I don't understand about you. I don't understand why you're here, or if you're even real or not. It's kind of hard to judge when I'm the only one who can see you."

"It's not much easier for me. I have fewer clues about what's going on then you do. The only thing I got was a bunch of rules. At least you know why you're here." I scoffed.

"You're still in trouble for disobeying orders," He pointed out. A half smile crossed his face when he said, "Your punishment is to find out what's going on from that Angelo guy. You have one week."

We walked into a populated area of the town and went silent. We had a new understanding of each other. Hopefully, its one that will lead to some answers.


	4. Falling Down

**Authors Note- Due to my recent revising, Fey is now 19 years old. An age much more suitable for any romancing that may come up. Sorry for the confusion. **

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I expected to see the quiet confines of my room, where I would be wrapped up in the silken sheet having happily forgeten the dream that plagued me the night before. Instead I woke up to the sound of snoring. To be more exact, an ear shattering orchestra of it. It was hard to believe I didn't wake up earlier.

My sleep befuddled mind called up its last reserve of juice and put two and two together. Yesterday actually happened. I was in 1944 and it was completely impossible. I let out a depressed moan that covered the raucous snores. The soldiers of Easy Company, who found shelter in the same house as I, did as little as twitch in their sleep as I let loose a string of curses vile enough to send my soul to the gates of hell where the devil himself would send me back. I rolled off the arm chair where I had perched the night before hoping that no one would sit on me as I slept. It seemed though, as if the men avoided my chair and had settled on the other couches and beds that resided in the small house.

I tramped across the wooden floor carefully, avoiding the men who slept there, and pulled my pack from out of the corner where I had stashed it the night before. Offhandedly, I compared it to the other men's and it certainly looked lighter. I pulled it open and what I saw was a bit disconcerting. A pair of socks, two pairs of underwear, two extra under shirts, one pair of pants, a small notepad, and a tin camping dish set. There was no food or weaponry in sight.

The second was less worrisome seeing as the extent of my knowledge ended at how to use a grenade.

My stomach grumbled loudly and I looked around for a door that would hopefully lead to a kitchen. Finding a hopeful candidate, I shouldered my pack and stepped over the men, hoping that with food in my belly I would be able to bitch and moan properly and then try and figure my way out of this mess.

The door thankfully led to a small kitchen. There was a wood burning stove in the corner, a hand operated water pump, and a door that I assumed led to a pantry. I opened it and low and behold, cans of food sat before me. I picked a few up and put them on the counter. I made one more trip before looking at the labels. Two cans of chicken, one can of SPAM, a can of diced tomatoes, chicken broth, plus a can chicken and potato soup. Oh all the breakfast possibilities. I turned and looked around the kitchen once more, hoping to find something a bit more morning oriented. I found a quarter of a loaf of dark brown bread, and stuffed the cans into my pack for later.

It wasn't until I walked out of the house that I realized I was looting. I swore darkly and smacked my self on the head. My record kept getting longer and longer. Moving off the steps I gave the house one last glance and wished its owners good luck. It was around nine in the morning and many of the men were waking up and checking if their friends showed up in the night.

I prowled around the town, a frown fixed on my face. It wasn't until I heard the flamboyant voice of George Luz for the third time that I realized I was traveling in a circle. My head was spinning as I tried to recall all I knew about physics and the probability of time travel.

I swore darkly when I reached the end of the street. Nothing I knew could explain what happened. I turned left taking a different route then before. The sun was high in the sky and a group of three past me, drifting in from out of town. I waited for them to pass me and followed along behind. I stared at their faces, trying to recall their names.

I sighed as I realized I could only place one. Albert Blithe, a fair haired country boy. My eyebrows crunched together when I tried to recall what became of him but I remembered nothing. The closest thing I could pull up was that Easy would be attacking Carentan.

I stopped and sat on the curb across the Luz and Blithe. My elbows rested on my knees, my fingers merged together and came to a stop under my nose. I closed my eyes and tried to think.

I started first on Angelo's rules, simplifying them into three points;

First and foremost: I was a ghost and only Buck Compton knew I even existed (even if he might not accept it).

Secondly: I cannot die and I cannot be wounded. The hit to my shoulder proved that. I escaped with only a large burse.

And third: I had a choice to make and I needed to make it soon. I was promised I could go home when ever I wanted. I was wary of Angelo. A promise to me was close to nothing. I was known for breaking them with little thought. I needed to find out if Angelo was keeping his side of the bargain.

George Luz interrupted my thoughts. "HEY FELLLAS!"

Ah yes and that certain predicament. The promise I made to my grandfather made little sense. Why he would want me to watch over the men of the 101st while he was in the 82nd was beyond me. It isn't a pretty picture when the belief of dreamland left. It all came crashing down.

Tears pricked at my eyes and I let out a sob. I pulled my legs toward my body and I hid against my knees. It was all hopeless. What the hell could I do? I was nineteen years old and my only hope for life was to become an art major.

My snickering demon of a mind jabbed me sharply whispering hopeless words that echoed around my mind.

A prod on the arm brought me back to the world of the living. Or I suppose the nonliving in my case. I looked to the side with red rimmed eyes which widened when I saw a man sitting on the curb beside me.

"What's got you down?" The man's voice was smooth with an Orleans twang that sent my heart fluttering. I glanced quickly around to find the streets clear. I turned back to the man and ran a hand nervously through my hair.

"You shouldn't be talking to me." I moaned.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why shouldn't I be talkin to ya? You seem to be in a bit of a rut an none of your buddies are around."

I wiped a hand across my face. "You shouldn't be talking to me cause if the men hear you they'll think your crazy. They'll see you talking to thin air."

He raised his eyebrow, and opened his mouth to say something but a strong voice cut through the air. "Hello Doc." My head whipped around fast as pale haired Buck Compton strode down the street. He stopped in front of us and caught my eyes. He then glanced at the man who sat beside me.

"'Lo Lieutenant," The medic beside me greeted.

Buck squatted down beside us and looked from face to face. "You see her Gene?"

Eugene Roe cocked an eyebrow. "Course I see 'im. Doesn't everyone?"

"It's a long story." I muttered.

Compton stood, motioned for us and sighed. "I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be here."

"The feelings mutual." I grunted as Eugene helped me up.

"What's going on here Sir?" He looked back and forth between us.

Compton motioned towards the way out of town. "She can explain it along the way. We're moving out."


	5. Carentan

**Authors note: Hello everybody. Sorry once again for the wait. I've been busy lately with school. Also shoot me a message on your thoughts on the men, Fey, or the story in general. Thank you! **

**P.s. Go see Leatherheads. It's hilarious. And I mean seriously GEORGE CLOONEY! Do you even need a reason?**

**PPS: You should all worship Sam. She is god (she saves you from the sins of bad grammar and random capitalization). **

**That is all.**

"I am really getting sick of telling this. I hope who ever I tell this one to next can spin a good yarn, cause I never want to say it again." I grumbled, picking my way through the dense brush after the medic. Eugene gave me a reassuring look and waited for me to start.

I took a breath and went over the three points in my head. "My name is Fey Russo. I'm from New York, and I'm nineteen years old. I was born in 1989, if you do the math, the year is 2008."

Eugene's eyebrows arched and he gasped. "That's impossible!"

"What's that Doc?" A soldier before us on the line called.

"Nothing! Nothing…"

I gave him a meaningful look. "I'd be best not to talk so loud to me until were alone. They can't see me. It's just you and Buck so far."

"What the hell is goin' on…" He muttered.

I grinned at him and muttered. "My thoughts exactly."

Afternoon turned to night and the line of soldiers continued onward. The temperature dropped and rain began to poor down from the heavens, yet we continued. I looked to the forest on our left then at lake to my right. On both shores small fires continued to burn, giving off heat to those who pass.

I slumped forward in defeat, my feet ached, my legs were weighted with lead, and I was really regretting swiping those cans. Eugene trudged on ahead of me looking slightly tired but still rearing and ready to go.

We were in the forest once more and had been on the march for the past two hours. I moaned as I took another step, fifteen miles… at five, the wounded were more chipper then I was. By eight I was ready to lie down and never move again. At ten I was contemplating Seppuku. I can't conceive how I made it to fifteen, but when Eugene looked back over his shoulder to check that was still there and gave me a smile I knew my suffering was over.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

George Luz stood watch in the early morning sunlight and took in his surroundings.' _France._' He thought '_would be nice if it weren't for the war__'. _A tall pine forest stretched to his left and a green tinted lake to his right. Its shores were studded with scraps of metal, even a whole fuselage of a B-21, and yet… the lake was glassy smooth reflecting the men and the tops of the trees.

Lieutenant Compton's reflection appeared in the water as he stood gazing over the lake. Another soldier, who was about as tall as Compton's shoulder, came to stand by him. The soldier's lips moved and Buck gave the slightest nod.

Luz's eyebrows shot together as he gazed on the pairs reflections. '_Something's not right…_' Luz frowned unable to identify the soldier by his reflection. He looked up from the water and at the two to only find one. Buck turned looking over at his men and called to Joe Toye. George looked around for the missing soldier but saw only the men he knew. He frowned, glancing back at the lake. The small soldier was once again at Compton's side, he pulled off his helmet and short brunette locks fell and brushed _his?_ shoulders.

Luz looked back at the group then at the reflection. The_ girl_ wasn't there.

The words of a blond recruiting officer echoed through his head.

_"Some say there's a ghost that hangs around the 101st. A girl who lost her brother to the paratroopers. She was said to have infiltrated the troops to have her revenge but as training went on she began to love the men, thinking of them as 100 odd replacements for her brother, revenge was put off by the urge to protect. _

_But then her company was sent to Africa. They say she was killed not long after landing, that a German squad found her and two of the men. Her spirit was intent on protecting the men__ so she ignored god's call and stayed on earth."_

"HEY GEORGE!" A voice called, breaking his line of thought.

Malarkey stood by George's shoulder, waving a hand in front of his face. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Malarkey laughed.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Six days from the invasion, I stood looking down at the town of Carentan. It was peaceful in a dead kind of way… no citizen walked its streets, and every so often there would be a squeak as a sign swayed on its chain. Yet the men crouched in ditches on either side of the road, waiting for Winters's command.

Winters turned to a man and whispered in his ear before looking over the ridge once more at the town. There was a tap on my leg and I looked back. Eugene's brown eyes locked onto my own, "Stay with me."

"But what about…"

He shook his head, motioning me down into a crouch. "Buck can handle himself. You said it yourself you're a ghost. What can you do?"

I looked down at the dirt thinking of my last try. I winced. The fear (and exhilaration) of running through the trenches alone, the one German soldier...

I fingered the hole in my jacket. "I can't just let the men get hurt." The words spilled halfheartedly out of my mouth

Eugene stared at the men before us. "I don't like it any better."

Almost as if on queue the men began to move. Running forward in half crouched columns they made their way down the hill with Lieutenant Welsh leading the way. "Come on First Platoon!"

German machine guns spat and cut down three of the men as they sprinted towards the town. "Into the ditches! Get down! Get down!" A yell rang out, the men thinking it was an order jumped to the side and huddled beside the road.

"**My god! You have to move! You're sitting targets!**" I screamed shooting to my feat and starting forward.

Winters seemed to have the same train of thought. He charged down the road screaming at the men. "**Get up! Get Moving**!" He wrenched one up and shoved him forward. "**Move it! Your sitting ducks!**"

I was starting down the hill when a hand closed around my calf. I pitched forward, slamming into the ground. Air deserted my lungs as I hacked and gasped, trying to fill them, my eyes watering. "Stay here," A voice snapped. There was the thud of a lone boot then the thunder of twenty others, as soldiers charged past.

The racket of the machine guns drowned the noise of the troop movement, and I looked at the backs of the disappearing platoon and wondered who it was that stopped me. A line of bullets slammed into the dirt inches from my hand, bringing an end to my reverie. I fear forced me to my feet and I sprinted back up the hill. Seeing Eugene, I grabbed at his jacket and hid my face in his side, trembling in shock. There was an explosion, followed by a pained scream, and the medic left my grip. I choked back tears, trying to calm my racing heart. I waited long enough to get half of a grip, and slunk back towards the top of the hill. I came to a stop next to Lewis Nixon. I looked at the swarthy man through watering eyes, then surveyed the town.

Enemy machine guns ran rampant, their snipers were having a heyday and the men… my men were getting their asses handed to them. Or so it seemed. Lieutenant Welsh ran forward, towards one of the gunners, a pair who decided to set up in the first floor of a shop. The Lieutenant charged up the side of the building and tossed a grenade through the window. The other men, those in the platoon that cut around the side, stormed the town. The men kicked down the doors and fired through windows in hope of finding the enemy. A man, I later discovered was George Luz, decimated walls with his bazooka with the help of Lieutenant Welsh.

Dust rose from the town, blocking my unaided view of the battle. Beside me Nixon swore and shifted bringing a pair of binoculars to his eyes. I glanced around, looking for who remained. Winters had moved beside the intelligence officer during the fight, which he too observed through a field glass, muttering to himself.

There was an explosion. I squinted at the town, trying to find what was happening. "THEY GOT US ZEROED!" The yell barely reached the hill.

"DAMN!" Dick swore beside me.

The men started sprinting, gathering their buddies as they went. They charged into houses and hid. Some weren't fast enough, shells hit beside them, throwing out shrapnel, and dust. I couldn't look away. I was frozen. My body wouldn't react. I was laid there looking down at the town of Carentan, watching as men received wounds that no amount of money could compensate.

The bombing slowed and the men trickled back into the streets, staying under shelter as they went. There, at the edge of the town! The remainder of the German's ran towards the open fields. Shells burst from a nearby window throwing us clumps of dirt as they chased after the soldiers. No man escaped the fish in the barrel shot.

Silence enveloped the town and Winters motioned for the remaining platoon to go down. I rose with the men, finding use of my body now that the shots stopped ringing. Then Nixon pushed himself to his feat and groped around his breast pocket. He drew out a metal flagon and took a swallow. Then he glanced my way. His eyes fell upon my pale face, "Who the hell are you?"


	6. Solitary Confinement

**Author Note- It's been a while… Yes a very long while…. I had a lot of trouble writing this part. I've been thinking so much on the future plot that I haven't paid much attention to the finer details of what's going now. Not to mention the sudden (HUGE) increase in school work. I promise my output rate will increase as soon as I get out of school. Thank you for waiting. **

_Angelo sat in an arm chair with one leg thrown carelessly over the arm. He flipped through a text book with the same nonchalant way. A click echoed around the room before a voice rose over the intercom. "All level one DPTA members report to Lab 5. All level one DPTA members report to Lab 5. Thank you." The bleach blond looked up and a frown clouded his features. He stood,__ placing the book onto a table beside the chair__, and walked out of the room, his__ starch white lab coat swirling along behind him. _

_He entered the fifth lab and glanced around. Ten angry eyes stared back at him. "Angelo… You are aware of the amount of trouble your blunder has caused us?"_

_He smiled appeasingly at the five scientists who stood before him. "It was just a __**small**__ mistake. It can be easily fixed…"_

_"But you __**haven't **__fixed it yet. Six days is more then enough to fix a __**small**__ problem. Wouldn't you say?"_

_The smile slid off his face__, "Give me one day." _

_"You better hurry Angelo. You've caused more than enough trouble."_

_The man with the bleach blond hair turned and fled. _

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The town of Carentan bustled with activity. Men rushed around looking for food, housing, and their friends. I watched the hustle and bustle from the house that had been set up as a hospital. I smiled softly and closed my eyes, happy to finally have a moment's peace. Eugene Roe and his down home southern accent set his voice aside as he conversed with Dick Winters and Buck Compton. The medic's quiet tones eased me to sleep.

When I awoke I found myself alone.

I shot to my feet and stumbled forward a few steps before I stopped altogether. Empty, cleared out, abandoned. The makeshift hospital was completely vacant. The only sign of its previous occupants were clumps of half-dried mud, and a splash of blood. My breath came in sharp gasps. "BUCK!"

I charged outside into the street asthe walls seemed to sink in around me. For the first time in this whole sickening ordeal, I was scared. I had no fucking clue where I was, and now I was totally and completely alone.

The paratroopers had gone up and left, leaving the following Army the open town. I could hear the rumble of the mechanized Calvary in the distance. I called out halfheartedly once more for Buck but my voice just echoed hollowly throughout the shattered town.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Y'all look like yew could use some help."

I looked up from a can of K-rations and my red rimmed eyes narrowed immediately. "Stick with one pathetic accent or none at all Angelo."

The blond man looked at me with wide eyes. "What do you mean ,Cheri?"

My look turned sour. "What do you want, _Cheri? _Haven't you ruined my life enough?"

I eyed him unhappily then snorted with disdain when I noticed his choice in clothes." And what's this, Angelo? Playing soldier are we?"

He smiled coldly, as if dealing with an unpleasant child. "You look lost. And … I feel as if I must improve upon our last meeting."

I dropped the can of beef and vegetable hash to the ground and brushed gravel from my pants. "Yah… you could. I suggest you make a move because I have another appointment. And I _just can't miss it_."

He sighed. "Let's start over. Your name is Fey Russo and you are from 2008 but you're in 1944. You're unsure of your point in being here. You're calling so to say. No ones going to tell you. You've figured that out for your self. I'm not here to help. Only to move you forward." He dipped his hand into his pocket and held up something that caused me to bristle.

"Where did you get that?!" I gaped, fishing around in my own pocket.

"You dropped it on D-day. I imagine you must have been too busy to notice." He moved quickly, stepped forward and clipped my grandfathers Medal of Honor around my neck before I even realized he had taken a step. "You should be more careful."

I started to pull away, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. "HEY!" I growled, trying to get away. His grip was strong, and my flailing was ineffective. He pulled a pair of syringes from his pocket and injected them into my arm.

I jerked my arm, finally freeing myself and leapt back. "**What the hell?**!"

He stared at me through one eye. "There's been a change in the rules." He giggled, "and just a heads up… when you wake up, you want to go that way." He pointed to the east and grinned at me. "Stay safe now." With that, he swung his M-1 over his shoulder and it dropped by my pack with a thunk.

I could feel the drugs taking effect.

Angelo turned and offered one last smile before his body slowly started to become transparent.

"DAMN YOU!" I lunged viciously at his back, but I fell short sliding to a stop on the cobble stone streets. Blood rushed to my head, and my eyes were clouded with darkness.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Parachutes.

Gear, training, CO's, XO's, Guns.

Planes…Fear…Jump…Float… Fall…Fire.

Images flashed before my eyes. My temples throbbed as the images increased into a flood, then it stopped, as if someone turned off the tap. I lay on the bumpy ground with my forehead pressed against the cool stone. The ground trembled as a jeep rolled past,narrowly missing my foot.

It was the blast of air as that brought me to consciousness. My head lifted and I pushed myself up. The lone jeep turned the corner and disappeared from my view. I glanced around and found my pack and Angelo's rifle to my left.

I grabbed hold of my pack and swung it onto my back. I picked up the rifle and it to was stowed away. I looked to left, down the road, to where Angelo pointed. With new found courage and certainty, I surged forward, making my way east


	7. Bittersweet

Night fell quickly over the French countryside. The darkness made it impossible for me to follow the lines of crushed grass that had been left by the moving regiment. Being a city girl, my knowledge of the outdoors ended at what I learned from Bear Grylls.

I scanned over the field as I walked until I found a shallow ditch to sleep in as the last shroud of night fell. I pulled some food from my pack and ate it slowly as I huddled near the ground. I shivered slightly and grabbed for my blanket. I looked at the cloudy sky, and rested waiting for sleep to take me by the hand.

The morning light cast a pink glow over the French country side and brought me slowly from the grasp of sleep. I grumbled, and slowly set off to take care of morning needs. I packed up my blanket, took a swing from my water bottle, and ate the rest of the bread and a small jar of canned tomatoes. Which, by the way, I wouldn't suggest trying, attempting to palate cold tomato purée is comparable to eating a jar of slime.

I dumped the empty can in the field and gathered up my things then followed the mashed grass.

It was ten minutes before I heard an explosion. _Mortars_, my eyes followed the grass line into the forest. Smoke rose over the tops of the trees, and I could hear guns going off. There was the constant racket of the machine gun,to the more sporadic _bam_ of the guns, and then there were the mortars, the agonizing silence as the bomb hurtled through the air followed by a terrorizing _BOOM_.

I dropped to the ground pulling at the lip of my helmet. Duty called me forward, but solitude kept me back. I cursed under my breath, insides writhing with inner turmoil.' _Weakling!_ I snapped. _Hopeless, helpless, weakling! Do SOMETHING! Take Action! Hopeless poser Do your DUTY. Your incompetence is embarrassing'!_

I uncurled. The mindless heckling drove me forward, bit by bit, slowly onward. Mortars wreaked havoc up ahead, throwing dirt and rock into the air. Machine guns spat angry bullets at the enemy. Men, perceived not as men, but as death, a reaper in human form, wearing the enemies uniform. Rifles unloaded steady, firing from different places on the line. Some men yelled orders while others screamed in pain. I could see the backs of the soldiers, bodies jerking with the recoil of the guns. I moved faster now, men in sight. Dear lord thank you for the pleasure of company.

I lurched to my feet and began to jog half crouched. A man ran in front of me, messenger bag bursting with ammo, the high pitched whine of bullets and he was down. He clutched frantically at his chest, red blood welling between his fingertips. His lips moved, straining to get the words out. "**M-Mama!**" A plea.

"**Medic!**" I roared, my hand pressed against his, three hands for one wound, my right went to my hip and pulled off the med kit strapped to my belt. I yanked it open it and took out Sulfa, and a compress. "**Medic**!" I shouted, the soldiers brown eyes stared into my own, his mind trapped on the same word, calling out futilely for his mother.

"**Quiet now, It's ok I got you. Medic!**" I lowered my voice and tried to pull his hands off the wound. "Shh now. Come on your gonna be fine. Lemme see it. Mama's on her way now ok? She'll be right here." My slick fingers pried his hands from the wound. I had unzipped his jacket when another pair on hands joined mine.

**"Who the hell are you!?" **An unfamiliar medic ripped open Brown Eye's shirt and used the cloth to wipe the wound off. He tore my packet of sulfa, and poured it on. The young soldier screamed and his hand gripped my arm, his body flailing.

"Keep his legs still!" The Doc didn't look up from his work to tell me. I tugged my hand from the soldiers grip and slid down to steady him.

"Shush now its ok. You'll be just fine. Doc's here." The soldier gagged, and blood pooled in his mouth.

"Lungs hit." The medic growled. "Prop up his legs." The Doc had a compress pressed against the wound trying to stop the bleeding. The soldier's cries returned with renewed vigor, only silencing when he paused to spit out blood. "**Mama**!"

His yelling slowed, and his breath grew haggard. With each gasp, flecks of blood rode on his breath. His breathing slowed and his eyes dulled. The vein in his neck pulsed, struggled, and finally stopped.

The medic rose stiffly and cursed throwing the bloody compress to the ground. He stood looking at his fallen charge, then moved off once more to try and save another.

I looked at the young man with the large brown eyes. "I'm sorry." I whispered ,and I reached for his dog tags, I pulled one off and turned away reading the engraved script. _Andrew P. Steinman._

My fingers clenched, the cold steels bit into my hand. "**God damn it****!**" I struggled not to throw it, and forced my hand to place it into my pocket. I yanked my gun from the ground and wiped my bloody fingers on my pants. I turned away and slunk off towards the battle.

As I approached the raging battle, Dog and Fox Company began their wild withdraw. Two Tanks appeared over the horizon and they fired at the retreating troops, men tumbled as the shells struck. Many would not live to see tomorrow. I heard Winters's yell on my right and the sound of our own mortar. I worked my way towards the line, finding a shallow ditch that would offer some protection from enemy fire and laid down. I eased my gun around and tried to recall how the damn thing worked.

My Uncle Tom had a good piece of land in Kansas where we would go hunting every spring. I usually avoided the deer hunts, settling for shooting the targets. Distantly, I could recall turning off the safety and reloading the rifles. I prayed this M-1 worked the same.

My fingers scrambled for the safety and I slammed in a cartridge, placing my finger by the trigger and waited. The tanks were alone on the field, a few Krauts could be seen darting around behind them, but they were to far away to hit. Fire poured from the Panzers machine guns and a man on the line screamed. "Come on Malarkey! Get those mortars to hit something!" I muttered.

"**Let's go! Come on!**!" Welsh yelled running out into the field, George Luz by his side. They dropped to their knees and Welsh pushed a rocket into the back end of the bazooka. His mouth moved furiously. I could distantly recall George giving Welsh grief. Something along the lines of, 'I knew following you would get me killed.'

One of the tanks rolled towards them, its turret turning to fire. The massive guns rolled, and the shot screamed through the air, shattering the trees behind the two and exploded, sending wooden shrapnel into the air. The gunner inside the tank reloaded, and the driver pushed it forward, it hit a bump in the ground and the weak bottom shown, flame erupted from the bazooka and the shell slammed into the underside. The tank exploded in a ball of fire, men spilled from the hatch and fell to the ground, clothes and skin ablaze. Their shrieks were shadowed by the sound of artillery. Welsh and Luz withdrew.

"**Covering fire**!" Winters roared and the line poured it on. I too joined in the trigger finger parade, sending scattered bullets towards the German lines. It was easy, I decided, to shoot at a faceless enemy. A man with a face could prove to be more of a problem. It was time, I suppose, to see what I was made of.

It was now that the German troops began their charge down the slope, the remaining tank plodding around behind them, sending shells sailing through our positions.

My teeth were crushing each other, and my breath sailed in vicious puffs. My white knuckled hand was tight against the shaft and my finger jerked back releasing the angry bullets. Again and again my finger flew, sending a killing bird with each bang. A German may have fallen by my hand, but I knew not if I brought a man to his grave. My head alight with adrenaline, I fired, only stopping long enough to eject an empty clip and slam in a new one.

A man on my left fell back with a grunt, his hand pressed to his heart, I turned and looked, my fire ceased. _Not another one_! I gasped, dropping my weapon I reached over to him and groped for his hand. He did not move, his chest did not rise or fall, blood just spilled from his broken heart. Another name to add to the list of 'Dear Mrs.' letters that would be sent home. My violent assault came to a screeching halt. I stared at the blank face of the fallen man and back towards the rolling tank.

War is not beautiful. It is a sad and costly affair. Any romantic visions should be tossed away and forgotten. So many young, promising, lives are lost during these bloody conflicts. No amount of money, or land, or power, can ever replace the lives of the lost and the potential they had.

I turned from the man and grabbed weakly for my rifle. I leaned against the cool dirt wall and paused, hand waiting to fire. I rested up against the wall and waited; American Sherman's would be coming soon. All I had to do was sit and wait for them to show.

A minute may have passed before black smoke rose from the Panzers and hunks of metal flew. "**Shermans**!" The men called, smiling faces, some laughed and patted their friend's backs, watching them roll in. Others pulled the triggers of their guns, mowing down German troops who decided to make their timely escape.

I looked at the men and back at the Germans, unsure of how I felt. Joy for sure, but also a hard underlay of pity and grief. Emotions are so hard at times. In less than a minute it was over. The silence was deafening. I pushed myself up and stumbled away.

The sun had past zenith and was crawling its way west, the forest was doused in long shadows, peaceful with the chatter of men, and alight with the smell of their cooking. Winters past me on many occasions, running between groups of men, Nixon past too, sometimes with his friend, he would glance my way as he went, giving the slightest nod in acknowledgement my existence. To him, I was nothing more then a fact, a camp follower who was another mans problem.

That reminded me. I was here for Buck and Eugene. Other men would be added to my short list as time went on. I stood and gathered my things before heading off down the line. It was time to get to work.

I smiled as I looked down at the man in who squatted near a caved in foxhole. "I figured I'd find you up here."

Buck looked up, eyes hidden by shadow. He smiled that big smiled, yet it was slightly forced. "Where've you been?" He threw a tin ration can into his bag and stood up.

I shrugged, frowned, and adjusted the M-1 to my back. "Around I guess. It took a while to find you guys after you left. Oh!" I dug around in my pocket. "I've got something for you. He was hit not long after the Germans started to Shell us." I held out Andrews dog tag.

He took it and gave it a glance before placing it in his own pocket, "What did you do?"

"Tried to help. I guess its just time to start pulling my weight." I scowled at the ground, took a sip from my canteen, and pulled off my helmet. "If I'm going to be following you soldiers around, I might as well act like one."

Buck sighed and rubbed his temple. "Come on. Let's get some food." He patted the back of my head and clapped me on my shoulder before walking away.

**Authors Note- WHOO! That took just about forever. This chapter was changed and edited so many times I don't know what to tell you. I must say the final version made the most sense. Thank god for that. Have a wonderful summer!**


	8. Across the Pond

The English town of Aldbourne was a quiet affair, so different from my own home town of Brooklyn, New York. The streets and houses had a Christmas card appeal, without the blanketing snow. Small cottages lined the roads, each with a perfectly manicured yard, and tall, trimmed pines. Lush countryside separated neighborhoods, and the amount of open space was shocking. The trees had begun to change color, the temperature beginingto cool, and the company was safe, out of France and out of harms way.

The men were happy, clean, and freshly shaven, they spent their nights in the many smoke filled pubs of England. The grey cloudy days were spent doing light PT, working in the replacements, and recovering from the time spent in combat.

Despite the calm lull of Aldbourne, I felt horrible. My nerves were a mess, sudden noises would send me skittering. My head was full of worries concerning Angelo and his next appearance. His original orders found their way to the front of my mind once more and they tumbled around day and night.

My only solace was the men.

The pub was warm and full of life. Men of the 101st crowded every inch of the floor. A few lucky veterans had dates on their arms and beer in their hands. The new men were rambunctious, trying to act like veterans. Trying to look tough, strong, ready, and capable. Their talk was big, but they had nothing to back it up.

I was backed up into a corner, foamy beer in hand, a courtesy from the Lieutenant. With a seat on a wooden crate I had a pretty good view of the comings and goings of the men. Doc Roe and Spina, the other medic, crammed themselves at a table with Christianson and Penkala, as a Dart contest sprung up. Bull Randlemen plus Joe Toye against George Luz and Buck Compton. The good Lieutenant and the humorous Luz seemed to be losing.

I took a sip of the beer and grimaced. It was warm, thick, tart, and had none of the Rocky Mountain goodness I had heard so much about. Thank you Coors. It was my first taste of English beer, and I didn't like it one bit.

The door opened, and a new group walked in, tall and sleek in their shining new boots. The blond haired leader had an arrogant look, one that lasted surprisingly long in the army. His partner was a serious man, mouth set in a firm line, pair of spectacles made him look bookish, but I cold tell… he was dangerous. A replacement moved out of their way as they approached the bar, beers in hand, he all but ran back to his table.

I tore my eyes off the pair when I heard a groan of disappointment from Luz. "Alright, Alright." He said holding his hands up to keep the guys there. "One more chance, if the Lieutenant can make this. Two packs of cigarettes."

Bull and Joe glanced at each other, weighing the chances. "Fine." Joe said, with a shrug of his shoulders

Buck drew back and George stopped him, "Lieutenant, are you going to shoot lefty all night?"

The other three men looked at him. Their grimacing opponents realized their mistake, Buck wasn't just having an off night; he was conning them. Buck smiled at Luz as if just remembering.

Joe groaned. "Hey c'mon…."

Luz grinned like the sly devil he was, "I'm just curious, cause he's right-handed."

Compton switched hands and drew back. "George, what would I do without George Luz?" The dart flew and stuck right in the middle.

George let out a whoop, and held out his hand. "Pass 'em over boys."

I drained the last of my beer and set the glass on a passing waitress's tray. I stood, and motioned to Eugene. The brooding medic had kept his eye on me the whole night; I'm sure he thought I hadn't noticed but I could tell. He was _worried_ about me.

When our eyes met, I pointed towards the door and waved goodbye. Squeezing between patrons, I ducked under glasses, and danced around two arguing old men. I zipped through the door and a blast of air hit my face, as warm and thick as the beer inside.

I walked down the empty sidewalk, humming quietly to myself. Street lights burned to my right, and I could still hear the ruckus from the bar as I neared the corner. Two GI's sang drunkenly as they left the tavern.

"Hey! Hey Buddy!" One yelled laughing. "Where ya goin'? D'ya know where we can find some dames?" Uneven steps pounded on the side walk, and two arms wrapped around my shoulders, one man on each side. "Come on Buddy what do you know?" It was the arrogant faced man who asked. I could smell beer on his breath, but his voice was clear and rational. They weren't drunk, and I was in trouble.

His hand tightened around my shoulder and he stared hard at my face. "Come on, little man. Tell us, or are you scared to open your mouth."

I yanked my shoulder free of his grasp, anger mounting, "As if I'm afraid." Comebacks were never my specialty.

His friend, the dangerous one, grabbed me around the neck and yanked me towards the buildings, my hand scrambled for my switch blade but the blond haired man grabbed hold. "I don't think so, Little Trooper. Not this time." He wrenched my arm behind my back and clapped his hand over my mouth. "It's over for you, Ghostie."

We disappeared into an alley, struggling for release I managed to get an arm free and I belted the arrogant man across the face and would have struck once more if it weren't for the dark haired man.

The hand around my throat tightened, and he slammed me against the wall, his face a feral snarl he whispered in my ear, "I hope you've said your prayers, bitch."

He slammed my head into the cold brick wall again and again. Lights flashed before my eyes, and my skull felt as if it were splitting in two. The pain was unbearable. I opened my mouth to let out a shriek. To yell the name I always called, but no sound passed. My lungs burned, my neck throbbed, streams of blood ran into my eyes, stinging and blinding. My head smashed into the wall and my world went black.

_Angelo! Angelo! Why have you forsaken me? _

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_"Why didn't you rum? You should have run__, you idiot."_

"How could she run? She knew she was in trouble, sometimes there's just nothing you can do. But she's got spunk. She wanted to fight back; she wasn't going to back down. You have to give her that much."

_"Who said this has to do with spunk! She ran from the Germans__, why didn't…"_

"She ran at them too, fully intent on killing…"

_"Then why was she so weak last time!"_

"You wouldn't understand."

I came to life slowly. I pondered the thought of being awake before I was committed. There was the slightest pounding in the front of my head, and my eyelids weren't willing to part. Only the _snniip snniiip snniiip_ told me of my coming conscious. Fingers brushed through my hair and a hand supported my shoulder. _Snniip snniip snnipp. _The slimmest glimmer of light broke though to my eyes and I blinked. There was a lot of white in the room, the walls the floor, the ceiling too. There it was that noise once more, that sharp, long sound. I turned my head looking for the cause.

"Stay still. I'm almost done." I froze, and a hand pushed my head so I was looking forward once more. "You had me worried Fey, really worried." The man said as hands brushed over my shoulders. Locks of black hair fell quietly to the floor. "There we are." I turned and looked over my shoulder.

"Angelo."

His pale blue eyes met my own and he placed the scissors on a table. He was a different man, less pomp and arrogance. He stood slowly and moved around the plush armchair, in which I sat. He took a seat in a white plastic chair, a detail I failed to notice. As he settled, I noticed a tired slump to his shoulders.

"Hello Fey." Even his voice lacked the usual spite.

I gazed at the tired, withered, form that sat before me, "Not up to playing games today? Has this grown tiresome? Taxing?" My voice dripped with sarcasm.

He blinked at me, and regained some of usual bluster. "Only you would hold me in such high regards. My nonobservant friend, even you don't have much room to talk. You're your hardly gung ho."

I sniffed, glared over his shoulder. I had no patience for this kind of thing.

"I thought so. Let's just cut insults, and just do what needs to be done. Next time we see each other it will be no holds barred, deal?"

"Yeah alright, just keep talking." I moved to cross my arm and there was a sharp pinch. I looked to the right, and followed the tube thrust in my arm to an IV pouch. The liquid was a misty blue, and the plastic bag was unmarked. I yanked my arm once more, to see if the tube would come out, but I was only rewarded by pain.

"Ignore that for now. I'll get there later." Angelo stared me in the eyes and I frowned and placed my hand in my lap. "You remember why you're here, yes? Why our meeting occurred so soon?" I opened my mouth to respond, but he spoke again. "I don't actually want you to answer. I know you know. We don't have time to play word games today. You were attacked by two men. Men who wish to sabotage our organization. They don't agree with our ideals, and they go around trying to kill our Ghosts. That would be you. You're classified as a Ghost at this point in time." He gave this information with a flip of his hand.

"You haven't manifested entirely, but it should be happening soon. That's what the IVs for. I'll explain it later. But the point is, these saboteurs are dangerous and would have killed you if they weren't caught. Luckily, a Mr. Eugene Roe came out after you and stopped the men from finishing the deed. He's patched your body up and you're safely hidden in the hospital."

He dug in his pocket and pulled out a ring. It looked like a class ring. Thick banded, with a wide faced garnet. "Wear this all the time. If you see these men again rub the face clockwise twice and counterclockwise once. They won't be able to detect you and you'll be safe." He slid it over my right ring finger and sat back. He rubbed at his eyes and stared back at me for a moment.

"They weren't supposed to find you. They never look for women, especially those stationed in companies. The only way they would have known is if someone ratted you out, one of our members." He sighed, and stood.

"You can no longer return home, Fey. The men ruined you. They know we've used you and they won't stop until your're dead. Your family won't be safe if you return to the future. In that bag is another dose of fake memories. These will hopefully protect you till the end of the war. If you follow them, you'll be ok."

I stared at the hanging pouch, trying to swallow his words. I can't go home. I'll never see Mom or Dad. I'll never see Antonie...I...I won't be there for his wedding! Angry tears streamed from my eyes, "What have you done to me!? Do you know the hell you've put me through? What for! Did I make you mad!? Do something to hurt you!?"

I bolted to my feet, snarling, "**Tell me whats going on**!"

Angelo shook his head, smirking, "Not today ,Fey. Next time." He sneered, regaining his arrogance as my anger erupted.

"**That's not good enough**!" I lunged forward, hands out stretched. My fingers grappled at his lab coat and we fell to the floor. I slammed him into the floor as we rolled. "**Tell me damnit**!"

"Next time, Fey! We'll finish this then!" He laughed, and his body sunk through the floor. I pulled at his coat until my knuckles slammed against the cold tile .

**Author note: Wow I just take forever to get these babies out. Well in my defense this chapter went under major reconstruction. The whole plot underwent changes and I must say I am quite happy with it. I hope you are too. **

**Well news of the month. I'm going to be on vacation for the next 2 weeks so I probably will get some writing done while in the car. So long as the laptops batteries hold up. A week after, school starts up again. NOT COOL! **

**So 'nuff from me. Hugs and Kisses. Please review. **


	9. The Sweet Sound of Sorrow

The moment between sleep and awareness had always bewitched me

**IN the Words of Isaboo...An Interlude.**

The moment between sleep and awareness had always bewitched me. Some people wake up slowly; blinking once or twice, then wait for a minute or two, as if they needed to be assured of the new day. Others entered the world quickly, a few blinks of the eye and their awake, shrugging with a 'well that's that attitude'. But then there were some, the unlucky few, who would wake in the dark, their eyes jerking open with racing hearts.

I woke to a shrieking woman and mind-blowing pain. Doctors and nurses zipped around the room, calling out loudly to each other. Doc Roe stood in the doorway, frozen in momentary shock, his eyes flicked from the woman to my pale face, twisted in an agonized grimace.

I twisted to look at the woman. She screamed obscenities at a husband who was not there, then cursed the doctors who were already busy with the delivery. A nurse noticed my stare and slid the divider closed, the noise was worse without a picture.

Gene appeared at my side and wrapped his arm around my hips and I flung mine over his shoulder. He pulled me to my feet and dragged me away. As I left that room a thought that passes many a woman's head drifted through my own. _I am__** never**__ having children. _

My talk with Gene was an extreme case of Déjà vu. It started off very slowly. He led me into a small operating room that was empty for the moment, the walls were shockingly white. He tossed me up onto the cold stainless table and placed his hands on his hips, he looked over my shoulder at the wall and frowned. He took a deep breath and looked me in my eyes. "I had to cut your hair."

My brow furrowed. I tried to contemplate why it was such a big deal. Oh 1940's of course… "That's ok." I shrugged. "I needed a haircut anyway."

He frowned as he ran his hand through his hair.

My headache came back in a flash and clenched my hand. "Should I be mad?" I groaned.

He shook his head. "You city girls are crazy." He grabbed my hand and smoothed it out gently. "I'll get ya somethin' for that." He dug around in some drawers and pulled out a small bottle, he pulled two pills out and dropped them into my waiting hand, I stuck them in my mouth and took a swig from his canteen.

"Thanks." I murmured. He smiled grimly, all business now that his momentary worry was over.

"You're gotta take it easy. You have a concussion, and some gashes that are still healing over." He reached for me and worked his finger under the knotty bandages that wrapped around my head. Finally loosened they fell around my shoulders and I noticed rusty splotches marring the white cotton. I ran my hands gently over my head grimacing at the places where dried blood clotted my hair together.

"They won't be noticeable." He smiled gently and pulled my hands down. He frowned. "There's something else. People can see you Fey. It's no longer Just Nixon, Buck and I. It's everyone."

"Everyone!" I snarled! "Who saw me like this!"

Eugene was shocked by my out burst. He held his hands before him. "None of the men, a few nurses, a doctor maybe."

"They didn't _touch_ me did they?"

"What? No! No they looked at your wounds. They don't know that you're….a girl."

I sighed and slid off the table. "I'm sick of this place." I grabbed his arm and he led me out.

Over the past few days the temperature dropped, the quite town of Aldbourne had a slight chill in the air, I brushed my hand through my short black hair and sighed as a group of Easy men passed before me. This was going to be a lot harder then I could ever imagine.

Eugene had taken me to shower and brought a fresh uniform from my pack, but I still felt self-conscious even if I did fit in with the crowd. Three months of being invisible to all but three people could do that to a girl. I swung my pack to my shoulder and set off to look for Lt. Winters, a pale envelope clutched in my hand.

Angelo and his love of mysterious envelopes. I snorted with contempt and picked my way down the street.

As I turned the corner I spotted Captain Nixon. "Sir!" I called jogging towards the man. He slowed and turned eyes searching over the crowd. They passed over me, the Captain too use to me being another mans problem.

"Sir." I said again bringing his attention to myself. I saluted and waited. He moved slowly connecting the dots as his hand rose. Then it fell in a quick snap, understanding in his clear dark eyes. "So this is it. You're…"

I brushed over him quietly. "I'm no longer my own problem. I'm the army's problem. Just like everyone else."

He grinned bitterly. "Well I'm glad I don't have you in my squad."

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't worry about that. If you don't want to get technical, I went through basic just liked everyone else Captain. All your doubt is enough to make a girl crazy." I smiled at him good-naturedly. "So Captain, Where's Dick Winters?"

**Author note: I hate this chapter. Hate Hate Hate Hate Hate! LOATHE ENTIRELY! It is pointless and boring, and just NO Cool kool Aid man! So yes, Please don't leave me. I promise the next one will be better, something will actually happen. I just wanted to get this mind scar out of the way. APOLOGIES! (Bows to the almighty readers) **


	10. Earth Bound

**I want to thank everybody who commented. Especially Isaboo . Your words helped me greatly during the writing process. I can only hope you enjoy the chapters. You Rock! Plus as always I'm sorry for the lack up updating. The last chapter you got was a hell of a long time ago. School messes up whatever kind of updating schedule I have. So a deer and a fairy walk into a bar…**

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The loud drone of the planes engines settled me into a state of torpor. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against my pack, an item that weighed as much as I did. Buck nudged me with an elbow, still in the habit of my invisibility he didn't look my way as he did so. Showing as much indifference as he, I cocked an eyebrow and stared at the man across from me.

"Scared kid?" Cob sneered from down the row. Half the faces on the plane turned towards him, the emotion written all over their pale faces. Smugly, I thought I was the only new face on the plane without a pale complexion. I was, undoubtedly wrong.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Two days earlier, I walked towards Captain Winter's English lodging. With rising dread, I stepped above the concrete platform and brought my knuckles down upon the door. I waited for a moment, heart pounding in my chest, the door knob turned. I contemplated running away, the stained chestnut obstacle moved, and older woman stood on the other side of the threshold. She was below the age of my mother, moving towards heavy set, her chestnut hair was swept up below a red print scarf. I tried a smile but it came out watery. "Is Captain Winters in, Ma'am?" I choked the last word out. Sir-ing and Ma'am-ing was beyond my Brooklyn manor.

Her smile could have melted chocolate, "Sure dear, one moment." She closed the door and returned a moment later with Richard at her heels. He stepped outside onto the small porch and turned to me. I froze for a moment, a fan girlish rage erupted in my brain, Dick Winters, it was **the **Dick Winters! He blinked twice before I gathered my wits. My right hand sprung to my brow, the left clenched the letter, "Private Russo reporting sir!"

His eyes flashed to my shoulders searching for company identification, finding none he saluted slowly. His eyebrow flicked up, "Well Private?" His voice had a smoky quality to it, soft, smooth…

"Sir." I felt color rise in my cheeks and I thrust the envelope out, hoping to take his attention away from my face.

Wiry fingers whisked it out of my hand and broke the seal. He scanned the papers, eyebrows knitting together, "You're with the 82nd?"

My eyes grew wide. _What was Angelo thinking!?_ "Yes sir." _Oh yes… _Images flooded my mind as Angelo's serum finally went to work. Half immersed in the memories, I almost missed his next question.

"There sending you to the One oh One because of your brother?"

"Yes Sir," I blinked fast, trying to file the images away. "Antoine and I, uh both signed up as paratroopers. There was a bit of a mix in the final stages before D-Day and we ended up in the same division. There wasn't enough time to fix it before we jumped." My brain was rushing, trying to place the fake memories together in a logical sequence.

He nodded and his eyes met mine. They held a certain light that I didn't quite understand. "They decided to change your division now..." He groped around in his pocket and pulled out a small pen. He flipped the envelope over and scrawled something on the front. "Take this down to the Supply Depot. Then report Easy HQ." He passed me the envelope. I sprung a salute and we parted ways.

/-/-/-/-/-/

The supply depot was empty at the moment. Only the store clerk, a Mr. George Luz, stood behind a desk, his hands buried deep in a wooden crate. The whole room was filled to the brink with similar packages. His eyes flicked up as the opened the door and closed with a musical ring. I moved towards the desk, envelope outstretched. He took the envelope without looking my way. With a flick of the wrist, his hand was back inside the crate, pulling up a small package marked with a P. "Here ya go," He placed them on the counter. "That's 5 cents kid." He finally looked up, a grin making an appearance.

His widening smile froze in a harsh crescent, his eyes shot open bright with recognition. "Its you!" He whispered.

"Me?" Shock registered on my face. He hadn't seen me had he? Could he have and I didn't notice? When? With Buck? With Eugene, in the bar? On the way to the hospital? My heart thudded against my ribs, and my face lost its color. "I-I have no clue what you're talking about Sarge."

I backed towards the door and yanked the knob. He lunged forward, grabbing my arm and pulled me towards him. We were unnervingly close. "I've seen you! Back at before Carentan! _I saw you in the lake_!" He whispered the last sentence. His finger's dug into my arms, dark eyes drilling my face.

"In a lake." I tried to make my voice as incredulous as possible.

"Yeah…In a lake." His mouth tightened and a faint blush crept over his cheek.

"Nope, sorry pal. I'm not aquatic. Can't breathe underwater, trust me I've tried. " I tried to keep the topic fleeting, as I clawed for more information. My mind flashed back to my talk with Compton. Did he really see me there? I pulled his hand from my sleeve. "You say you saw me in a lake?" A pat on the shoulder. "Tell me about it will ya?"

He laughed awkwardly and slid back behind his desk. "Heh, sorry about that. I thought you were something else."

"Its ok," I lied as I leaned against the table. "But really, tell me about it."

He rubbed the back of his head and looked back down into his box. He stuck his hands inside and pulled out a few packages. He sorted them as he spoke. ""It was only a week or so after the jump. We were a few miles outside Carentan. I was on guard duty that morning, standing by the lake, and I swear I saw you in the water. You were talking to Buck Compton… "

So it was true. He did see me. Questions bounced around my skull. I opened my mouth to ask one, but I stopped. Keep it smooth Fey. Remember, high school dating 101.

I decided the smaller the reaction, the better. I quirked my eyebrow and said, "You sure you didn't drink too much chardonnay? It wasn't hard to find around Carentan, the farm houses were exploding with it. You probably just drank too much." I rambled.

He looked hard at my figure," You're not a replacement are you?"

I grinned. "Oh no I'm even worse. I'm one of those Eighty Second bastards." I stuck out my hand. "The name's Frank Russo."

_/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/_

A half hour later, George was off work, and his only interest was joining the fellas at the bar. He insisted I tagged along.

"Whoa George! Buddy, I got to go to HQ!" I protested as he dragged my body down the slick cobblestone street.

"And I got a date with Lady Liberty. It can wait. Start walking, or you'll be seeing a section eight. No one in their right mind would pass up a beer for men with a ten foot stick up their asses."

Well I couldn't argue that. I walked along beside him, a earning a reprobation with every step. I stuck my hand behind my back and stretched, "I don't see how you do it, George. I couldn't stand a desk job like that."

"Good, I'll make sure you're put on the roster." He shot a grin in my direction and trotted the last final feet, "Welcome to heaven."

He pulled the door open and we entered the thick, musty air.

Luz and I were hardly three steps in the door when the bartender sprung upon us, "Two ales!" He called snatching two glasses from the abyss behind the counter and pulled down the tap. The man held open is hand and George dropped some coins in his palm before taking the drinks.

"First rounds on me. You buy second."

"Hey George!" Easy men called from across the room. George waved at them and smiled at me. "Come on, Frank. Its time to shake your "All-American" roots and become an Eagle."

I rolled my eyes playfully, "You're a drama queen, you know that?"

"Well it's a big day," He shot back.

"Hey fellas," George grinned as he pulled over an empty chair. "This here's Frank Russo. He's been shipped over from the 82nd."

I sat down next to him and gave a smile, "Hey."

It was an awkward moment, being introduced to men I already knew. At the table were the men I had followed for the past two months. There was Joe Toye, Bill Guarnere, Don Malarkey, and of course, the leading man of my invisible crusade, Buck Compton.

The conversation that followed had that 'new person among a group of friends' feel and I sat sipping my beer, a placid smile fixed upon my face. Every once in a while, George or Compton would make a stab trying to get me talking but never got very far.

"Heard Joe DiMaggio's getting married."

"Yeah, Marylyn Monroe." My grandfather was a huge DiMaggio fan; I saw the Joe/Monroe wedding picture in his basement when I was younger. I gazed around the table. Some of the men seemed kind of put off.

"Too bad she's getting married." Malark muttered.

I couldn't say much. The only image I have of Monroe is a generic one. The white dress and a lot of fans.

George's eyes flicked to the corner, a dart game was finishing up. "You any good at darts Frank?"

Frank? Did Perconte join us? OH…of course that's me. "Not really."

"That's fine I'm out of cash anyway." He muttered. Then looking sent a challenging look around the table. "Anyone want to play?"

"I will," Buck polished off his beer. "You in Joe?"

"Yeah alright," The quiet miner responded.

I fell in next to Compton as we walked over. "You better shoot lefty," I murmured.

His mouth twitched into a smile, "Only for you."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The loud roar of the place drew me back to my senses. I looked around. There was Bill across the way, drawling upon a cigarette. He gave me one of his looks. "**Thought we lost you for a second!**" I could barely hear his shouted words.

I forced a tight lipped smile. A few minutes passed and Buck stood up, eyes locked on the glowing amber light. "**Stand Up**!" He motioned with his hands. "**Hook Up**!" I stood as the plane jumped I feel into Bill's side. He pushed me in front of him, right behind Buck.

"I'll see you on the ground," He roared.

"**Equipment check!**" Bills hands pulled on my pack and I did the same for Buck. "**Sound off**!"

"**Twelve Ok**!"

"**Eleven Ok**!"

"**Ten ok…"**

**"Three ok!"**

**"Two ok"**

**"One Oh Kay!"**

My breath was coming in trembling gasps. I can't do this. This is absolutely insane. I can't do it!

The light flicked green. I saw half of Bucks face as he dove through the door. A mask of concentration and fear for what's to come.

I was pushed forward, my hands gripped the opening. The airs suction pulled on my body and dragging me forward. Goodbye world. This is the end. Bill pushed me into the air.


	11. Shattered

****

**Anyway, its been a while huh? Well MERRY CHRISTMAS! Happy Holidays and all that Jazz. I hope you don't mind me cutting this chapter short, I was going to do the whole Market Garden chapter in one but decided you all deserve a little something. So I hope you enjoy it. I love y'all!**

Falling was an interesting sensation. By interesting I mean horrifying. My stomach felt as if it was rushing past my brain. Air was getting trapped under my helmet and made my neck stretch in the most uncomfortable way. I don't know how long it took for my chute to deploy but I swear I saw my life flash twice before it did. My parachute opened with a snap and my shoulders burned as it yanked me too a halt. I floated down, admits a picturesque blue sky. Laughter spilled from my mouth and disappeared in the cool September air.

I touched ground awkwardly. My right foot landing before my left and giving way. Pain shot though my nerves and my awkward laughter stopped. Wind dragged me along the ground when it caught in my chute. With a lot of flailing I managed to smack the cute down so it wouldn't trap wind. Disheveled with flushed cheeks I rolled up the cloth and shoved it into the pouch. I pulled off the harness, grabbed my gun and lurched to my feet. Pain drove needles into my ankle and I swore as I took a testing step. I grimaced and straitened my helmet trying to play off my discomfort.

I took another step and winced, hoping it would dull as I moved. I tried to keep my gait as level as possible and worked my way to the tree line. Buck was there already with a few others.

Men were separating into squads and a few medics rushed around making sure everyone was alright. I stood near Compton resting most of my weight on my left leg. My right was awash in a sort of numb irritation. Adrenalin must be blocking the worst of it. I sighed. I had experience in this kind of injury I knew it was going to get worse.

As a company we moved towards Eindhoven, planes blasted over our heads as we waited in a road side ditch. Men moved about returning with small items or news. I sat next to Buck, Joe, and Bill waiting for the orders to move. The conversation was forcibly light and a few jokes were spread around. The three men laughed quietly over some joke and I chuckled along trying to figure out what was so funny. Finally I decided it was just too 1940's specialized for me to understand. It was like telling a 'Yo Momma' to Shakespeare.

"There's a bit of a hold up on that road there. We're going to enter through that field." A runner said as he knelt down beside us. He pointed over the road, towards a field of long golden wheat. He jumped up and moved down the line, telling officers and noncoms as he went.

Buck glanced down at his watch then at the men, when their attention was gathered he jerked his arm forward. In a mass we ran through the wheat in a half crouch. Each step sent rugged jolts of pain up my nerves. I clenched my teeth and limped forward.

It seemed odd that there no mortars were fired our way,nor a German's version of a banzai attack. It was quiet, only the sound of the wheat rubbing against our bodies. We crossed a field of choppy mud and saw the silent town. I knelt down against a fence post and rested my rifle across my leg. In the windows there was movement. Shutters were flung open, glass was removed and orange was hung from the wood work. The Dutch flew their national colors.

Music played on the corners and a few songs drifted from open windows. People danced in the streets waving orange cloth above their heads in a wild interpretation of the 'jump on it' dance. Women screamed, children laughed, the men whooped with joy. A woman's hand grabbed for me and she showered kisses upon my cheeks. I kissed hers feeling oddly like a cousin from the Godfather. I gave her a smile and took the offered snack. I shoved it in my mouth and chewed. The other men were given similar treatment. They were kissed by men, women and children. Food was given from families. It was insane riot. A few officers tried to keep order but their words were lost in the crowd.

I smiled and shook people's hand, kissed peoples cheeks. In the confusion I shook a few of the Americans too.

"Don't you LOVE HOLLAND!" Malarkey screamed in my ear. A blond woman in her early twenties flung her arms around my shoulders and squeezed me to her busty chest hard. I blushed furiously as I returned the hug. I don't think I've felt so loved in my entire life. I saw Lt. Speirs holding onto a light post, waving his hand forward as he yelled. "KEEP MOVING!"

Buck elbowed his way through the crowd towards the corner. Over the woman's shoulder I saw Captain Winters, Nixon, and Welsh. Buck joined them and I was swept away. The young woman put her arm through mine and spoke in rapid succession. I just smiled and she laughed before pulling me towards the sidewalks. She paraded me past some other women her age whose arms wrapped around their own Easy Boys. They smiled at each other and catcalled. I grinned. It's funny my friends and I would do the same thing when we had our boyfriends with us. Girls are girls, no matter where you are.

I limped beside the young woman teeth clenched to keep from grimacing. She walked purposefully ahead holding my hand in a tight grip. She spoke rapidly with joy evident in her voice and would gaze adoringly my way every so often. She led me to a red wood house and we stopped before the pine door. She released my hand and pointed to the ground firmly. It was an obvious order. Do NOT Move. She opened the door and disappeared inside. A few moments later she reappeared, holding two beer bottles and a rectangular scrap of paper. She handed me the two bottles and gazed at the palm sized piece of paper before handing it over too. It was a small picture of her, taken a few years earlier. Her hair was longer and arranged in ornate curls. She took my free hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "Mijn naam is Katrien."

"Katrien." I repeated trying to fix her name to her face. I gave her hand a squeeze and smiled as brightly as I could. "My name is Fey." I saw no reason in giving her my alias. We would be gone soon, especially is Speirs keeps up that glaring.

She winked and kissed my cheeks. "Bedankt Fey." She struggled slightly with my name. "Tot ziens." She kissed my cheeks one last time and she disappeared into the crowd.

"What did she say?" A voice suddenly asked. Startled, I turned and saw Eugene.

"She said goodbye…in Dutch." I glanced at the picture and slid it into my pocket. I glanced up at him from under my bangs; my cheeks still a bright red. His hair was ruffled and he had red rings on his cheeks from kisses. He stared back at me for a moment before nodding.

He clapped my shoulder."You're right." He said, "Sarge says to keep moving. Let's go." He turned to go and I limped after him.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

It was night; we were camped in field, a farmhouse a quarter mile down the line, and trees that sprang up in groves. . The stars were bright and I had a perfect view, stretched out on the grass staring up at them, my right foot in Eugene's lap. "You should have told me about this earlier!" He repeated for the umpteenth time. I muttered the same apology I had used previously and tried to find Orion. No luck. A few guys walked past us, calling their hellos before disappearing behind the tree line. A few minutes later Doc slid my foot off his lap and pulled me up into a seated position.

"My best guess is that you have a crack in your Tarsus." He looked at me trying to figure out if I knew what a Tarsus was. I didn't." It's your ankle bone Fey. I don't think the crack is too deep so you should be able to stay on the line. Your ankle will swell if you've been on it to long, and your going to get some pain." He looked into my eyes, as if he were trying to read my soul. "If it gets worse I'm sending you out."

I gave him a sarcastic salute. "Alright Mother."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The next morning we drove through fields of flowers. The tanks we rode on breaking the serene scene with their loud screeching movements. Tall golden grass swayed in the breeze and tall telephone poles stretched on the side of the road. I bent around one of the men to get a look at a road sign, Nuenen. I sighed as I leaned against Joe Toye's Legs. "I always hate this part. So boring."

"Its better then getting shot at." Joe replied rapping me on top of the head.

"Well you can't have everything." The tank came to a stop suddenly and I could just see figure walking out past our convoy. The soldier came to a stop in the middle of the road and looked around at the village to our right.

"LIEUTENANT!" The man turned jerked and fell. A gunshot echoed over the field. Men began to yell as they pointed to a halftrack, the tanks roared, medics rushed, and soldiers disembarked. We fled into a road side ditch as the tanks fired.

The medic, who was helping the Lt, fell, a bullet through the hip. I gripped my rifle tight. _Please don't let it be Gene. Please not Gene._

"MOVE! MOVE YOUR STATIONARY TARGETS!" Babe roared in my ear. I leapt to my feet, faltering slightly as my ankle gave way, I caught my self raised my rifle and fired at the fleeting forms of the Germans. My bullet struck dirt, sending a chunk of turf into the air. Another mans shot was true. I continued to run, trying to keep up with the taller, faster, men. I fell in behind Joe, resting against a stone wall, another man was with us, a recruit I didn't know.

"We're going to the left, Russo your first." I nodded and switched places with the recruit. I peered around the edge of the building, and flashed over the back yard. Then the neighbor's house, I double checked the windows. Holding up my hand I flashed a thumb up and sprinted across the lot, I slid in behind a low stone wall and crawled my way down to where it met at the corners. The other men followed my lead, playing our demented version of Follow the Leader. A quick check to make sure all was clear and I was one the move again, I jumped over the wall and scrambled behind the shed. I peaked around the corner and saw sunlight gleaming off the tops of American helmets. I turned back to Joe.

"There's half a platoon over that brick wall out there. One of ours... Buck's I think."

Joe nodded. "Let them know we're here. Then we'll wait." Once again I moved past the wall, waved, called the signal. A string of bullets pounded into the dirt around me. I leapt back crashing into Joe.

"Holy SHIT!" I blurted.

Joe's words were a bit more… choice then mine. We struggled away from one another, righting our helmets, and swearing under our breath.

"Where the hell did those come from?!" Joe hissed.

"Our freaking men!" I growled. "Trust them to try and blow my damn leg off!"

The loud rumblings of tank cut off what ever Joe was going to say next. The noise stopped behind us and I peeked around the wall to see what was going on. There were two tanks and both had halted in the middle of the street. An American soldier had jumped up on the tank was talking to the lead observer, pointing down the road, closer to our position. The soldier jumped off made some angry gestures and the tanks rolled on. I squinted at the rows off stone houses that flanked the Sherman's side. I couldn't see much past the corner house only some piles of hay.

There was a large crash and smoke billowed out from one of the hay piles. The second tank, an English Cromwell, shattered, smoke fireballed from its wrecked corpse.

"COME ON!" Joe yelled grabbing the recruit and shoving him forward. We ran towards the wall joining the mass of fleeing men. . The German Panzer pulled out of its hiding spot, shedding flakes of hay as it went. It released another shell with a terrifying boom. It crashed into a building. Bricks, plaster, and dust scattered into the air and slammed into the ground with terrifying effects.

I lost contact with Joe in the mess. I scrambled forward with fear in my heart, clutching my M-1 to my chest. Machine Gun bullets danced around our bodies, blowing holes into the cobblestone walks. My breath was coming in agonizing gasps and my muscles burned with the strain of movement. I knew I was slowing, the men were buzzing by me now. A burst of bullets hit the around me.

There was the road out of town. I could see fleeting scours of olive drab. I tried to run faster but my body wasn't up to it. The German tank had entered the town square and another appeared on the side road. Their guns were continually blazing.

Large quantities of rock and dirt were shoveled into the air when the shells hit. Shrapnel flew in all directions. I knew couldn't reach the men before the tanks cut me off, effectively herding like a cattle dog. I jerked around and struggled back to the village. The building on the corner seemed like a good enough choice. I slammed my foot against the door and disappeared inside.

I knew you were supposed grenade it first, but I couldn't take the chance of catching my own men. With my gun at the ready I made a quick search of the main floor; finding nothing but stale bread I crept upstairs. There were only two doors up stairs, both were closed. Pressing my ear against the doors I struggled to hear. The fighting outside was too vicious. I pulled one open and looked inside. Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse, and it looked as if no one had been here for a long long time. I crept up to the window and glanced outside. The square was awash with German troops. Carefully I pushed the window open and propped my rifle against the ledge.

I let out a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. My eyes darted around the square, searching, all the while my mind was reeling. This would be my third time trying to kill. Have I even made the shot before, killed a man by my own power?

I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to focus. I opened them slowly and adjusted my position. I chose a soldier, a man with a radio on his back, and followed him waiting for a good shot. My heart was in my throat. Did I really want to do this?

I squeezed the trigger.

The soldier fell, and writhed on the ground, hands clasped on his abdomen. Two men rushed for him and pulled him away. They left a streak of blood on the cobble stones. The square erupted.

Bile rose inside me and retched. Sick and conflicted I whipped my mouth and scooted away from the mess. Drearily I grabbed my gun and stumbled down the stairs knowing full well I would only encounter an enraged enemy.

I glanced outside and weighed my options. Strait would take me back to the platoon, but the change of making it there were slim, a quick hop to the right and I'd hit the square, if I went that way I'd get my head blown off. I really only had one option. Go left, try and hook up with a different platoon that still resided in the town.

To say the obvious, I went left. I ran past bodies glistening in their uniforms, a mixed handful of color. Death had a different color that day, it was green. I stumbled past alleyways that were silent as the grave; I didn't even bother to look, for it seemed only the rooftops supported life. I heard snipers and machine gunners, and mortar men, all firing in towards the town. Morbidity was on my mind, so I ran and I ran. Run Forest Run.

I never was the fittest person, so the short burst of energy I had before was gone before I knew it. But I was closer to the fighting. I turned the corner and BAM I was in it. Only I was on the wrong side. A squad of Germans had their back to me and were shooting at a group of Americana. My body reacted before my mind realized what had happened. The pin yanked from a grenade, the hand bomb launched, and I moved with it spiraling back behind the corner to await the explosion.

I walked around the corner and shifted through the dust. The German bodies lay in piles by my feet. I called out the password and ventured towards the line.

The group of Americans were all recruits, separated from their sergeant. They stared at me with wide eyes.

"What's your company?" I asked gruffly.

"Dog sir. Our Sarge got shot."

I remembered the talks back when I was Buck's shadow. "You're under Speirs?" I didn't wait for an answer. "Where are the others?"

"Back that way." Their leader pointed down the street, closer to the edge of town.

"Alright. Follow me." I swore darkly, I was no person to be in this position; I was horrible in groups, anything but the leader type. To impersonal, to involved in my well being. I zig zaged my way down to the next street and waited for the others to catch up. I glanced around and darted. I was uneasy. We had been too long without encountering some kind of resistance; this area should have been loaded with troops. We made it to the next intersection before I heard noises that really made me worry. It was a four way cross, the road strait ahead was blocked, a house had crumbled during the fight. The two remaining sides were trading bullets, the Germans to the left, and our boys to the right. I had a feeling we had found Buck. There was a tank on the German side, slowly making its way toward us.

It was then the Germans noticed us.


	12. Sideways

The German guns flared and one of the men behind me fell. I raised my M-1 and fired. "TAKE HIM AND RUN!" I roared as I fumbled for a grenade. I pulled the pin with my teeth as I continued to fire one handed. The two men disappeared around the corner with their friend thrown over their shoulders. I hurled the grenade and sprinted after them.

My grenade was about as effective as throwing a snowball at a charging rhino. It just angered the German troops and a huge wave of them charged after us.

"GO GO!" I shrieked. Our troops poured on covering fire as we raced but the enemy kept coming.

Suddenly the men, who had been providing covering fire, started moving. They ran away from us, back towards the road. I unhooked another grenade and tossed it backwards. It exploded and grit flew into the air, leaving us more time to make our escape. The Germans fired through the smog but their shots went wide. It was then the mortar started.

My ankle cracked with every step, and my lungs and limbs seared with each breath. I could hardly keep up with the men. It was too much too far.

Every one was falling back; the whole city was a chaotic mess of scrambling olive and grey. I lost sight of my boys, my vision going green as a squad enveloped me.

The ground exploded behind me and I flew forward. My face banged against the cobble stones and blood flowed down my lips, I brushed my hand across my nose as I scrambled to get up.

"KEEP MOVING! COME ON!"

I stumbled forward and would have fallen again if a hand hadn't caught my arm and dragged me forward.

"COME ON KID!" Together we ran for the road. The German troops were still in hot pursuit but now our tanks could help out. Shells exploded scattering the mass. My savior dropped my arm and loped beside me. I blotted at my nose again and glanced in his direction. I almost had a heart attack right there. It was Speirs.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

He left me without a word when we reached the trucks, only a scrutinizing glance at my face. Somehow, with my mind crashing in around me I managed to vault into a truck and find a seat before fatigue paralyzed my body. The trucks came to life, slowly pulling away from the exploding city.

Grief was wrought on every face. Many a man was missing. I looked around trying to find my friends. I jumped slightly; Luz was right beside me, his face hidden in his hands. Immediately I expected the worst.

"God George, you ok?"

The radio man looked up. "I'm fine Frank, You seen Penkala or Malark?"

I shook my head. "Nah George, I bet there on another truck."

He looked back down at his hands and we lapsed into silence.

That night the entire battalion was camped in a valley, a large dike rose along the side, and sparse trees littered the field. George and I wandered around for a time looking for our buddies. I left him back always with Malarkey and went out in search of Buck, or Roe. Unfortunately I found them together.

Buck was lying facedown in the field hospital, a blanket thrown over his lower half.

"God Buck,' I crouched down beside him.' You kay?"

He blinked hard a few times before answering. "Yah I'm ok. I wanted to be a part of the Easy company tradition." He tried to smile.

I tried to smile back. "To cool to pass up?" I gave him a gentle pound on the back.

Roe crawled over. "How's it feel Lieutenant?"

Buck shrugged and closed his eyes. "I'm ok for now."

"How about you? Doing ok Fey?"

"My nose isn't broken is it?" I removed my helmet and Gene took my face in his hands, he turned my head, getting a view from all angles.

"Nah, I think its ok, it's a bit hard to tell, but I think its just swelling." He rubbed his forehead. "How's your ankle?"

"Sore."

He stared at me for a moment, doing that scour your soul look he used on me so often. His dark eyes were blank as he nodded and walked away.

Pondering this, but accepting a more immediate concern, I turned back to Buck. "I'm gonna miss you." I whispered, blushing as I glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm gonna miss you too."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

We were still in Holland, in some rinky-dink town I didn't know the name of. It was early October and the weather was going down hill. The skies were a constant grey and rain seemed imminent. Even though our regiment held the town it was no vacation. As far as I could gather (one thing I missed about being invisible was that I could attend any meeting I wanted) we were the only allied force, on the German side of the Rhine. A rather unnerving fact, if I do say so myself. Made even more obvious from the increasing number of wounded.

It was nighttime and 2nd platoon was on the move. The moon was full that night, illuminating the dike like a stage. Following Winters we picked our way over uneven ground towards the top of the incline. A machine gun fired and we could see the flashing exhaust, we all dropped down and waited in the dark.

"There over 3 miles away, why are they giving away their position." I heard the Captain mutter to Frank.

"Maybe they aren't as smart as me and you."

"Hold here and wait for my signal." Winters ordered before continuing the climb, Luz repeated it to me and I passed it along. I watched as the captain disappeared over the crest. He reappeared moments later and signaled down to us. I struggled to decipher it in the dark but under stood the over all message. As a group we rose to our feet and crawled up the incline. After reaching the top we slid down a short embankment and ran about 20 feet to another decline and where we slid down and hid behind some low shrubbery. Our machineguns set up shop above us, lying on the flat ground.

"This is our fall back position, Mortars deploy here!" Winters whisper yelled. "First squad on me!" I rose into a half crouch, along with Luz, Lipton, Bill, and Joe. We ran forward into the dark.

We slowed to a crawl and Dick held up his hand, motioning us to a stop. We knelt and waited. The enemy machinegun fire was much closer now, sounding as if it were coming from the top of the hill. We crept our way up, and I could see a group of 20 Germans milling about, they were close to the gunner, who continued firing off sporadic bursts. Winters sprang around the group whispering targets into our ears.

"First on the left." He whispered into my shoulder, his breath tickled my neck and sent a shiver down my spine.

"Wait for my signal." I adjusted my body, leaning heavy on my left forearm; I looked over the barrel of my gun for my target. My breath came in silent pulls and I readied myself for the coming scene. Winters fired. I fired, others fired. The Germans yelled and scrambled about. I kept tugging on my trigger, aiming at the remaining Germans. "Fall back" Winters yelled and we disappeared back down the hill. I could hear the mortar team's shots screaming in. We made a hasty retreat.

The German machine gun swung around and fired at us. I could see the tracers flash through the air. I hunkered down when we reached our fallback position and changed my cartage.

Winters screamed orders behind us, as he tried to inspect our lines. I fired into the dark. I could see the mortar team's shots falling short. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Winters roared. I let out a small grunt with each shot, as the rifle bucked into my sore shoulder. A mortar exploded near us and a soldier went down.

We were out there till morning. Light shined down on the low winter wheat that did nothing to accent the horizon. I shivered slightly, moving my frozen fingers. Winters shifted beside me pulling something from his pack.

"Fix bayonets" He called. I dug around my belt and pulled out on the cold leather grip, I slid it onto my rifle and prepared my self for movement.

"Go on the red smoke!'

I looked at the other men and found Winters staring at me. "Come with me Russo."

I nodded sharply. "You got it."

He pulled the pin on the canister he retrieved from his pack, reared back and threw it. He took off and I lunged after him.

"WAIT for the SIGNAL!" I heard Lt. Peacock scream.

Dick and I charged through the field, past the canister that still had yet to spew smoke. My legs were starting to burn when the canister finally opened. The rest of the platoon charged after us.

For a moment I wondered why no Germans were firing at us but then I reached the top of the dike and I saw why. They were completely unaware, caught while eating their breakfasts. Winters and I fired, reloaded and fired again. The Germans scrambled for their weapons, and then they started to retreat. Our men fell in beside us and rained terror upon those below. It went on like that for half a minute, and then more soldiers poured over the hill, right into our sights.

"Holy shit." Someone said.

"IT'S A WHOLE OTHER COMPANY!" Our machine guns were working over time and I was running out of cartages fast. The mortar shells started to fall. Huge plumes of smoke, and dust burst into the air. They started to fall near us.

"INCOMING ROUNDS!" A Sergeant screamed. "TAKE COVER!"

"TAKE COVER ITS GERMAN ARTILLERY!" We scrambled down the hillside.

We waited for the shelling to stop and made our way back up the hill. The Germans had fled, and we walked around their camp.

Standing over one of the bodies I stared at the uniform. The symbol on their helmets intrigued me. Two sharp S's that looked lightning bolts.

"Their SS, Russo." Bull Randleman said, noticing my scrutiny of their uniforms.

"Yeah," I said. "I know."

I walked to the top of the dike, stood beside the four way sign and stared out over the field. The Battle for the Crossroads was over.

A few days past and our company were shipped to France. A well deserved rest if there ever was one. We spent our days in the bars, sleeping in warm beds, with or without company; once in a while they would show a movie. I didn't go to many of those, they didn't appeal to my taste. I spent a lot of my time browsing the stores, or writing short notes to Buck and sending them along. Sometimes George would snag me and we'd walk around together, doing whatever pleased our fancy. It was a nice relaxing weekend.

George convinced me to go see a movie the third night. I bought popcorn while he snagged seats and we watched in happy silence. The movie was called the S_even Sinners_, a Marlene Dietrich. Luz and I watched between stifled laughing.

"So then I say" I whispered to George "Sir you got the wrong gir-guy. How could I possibly, single handedly destroy your entire…"

"Hand on a sec my favorite line is coming up!" Joe Toye turned around and glared at us. "Shut up."

"I'm trying to watch this." Lipton said.

"Look I've seen this movie thirteen times." George puffed on his cigarette.

"Well I haven't so shut up." Joe growled.

"Got a PENNY!" Luz spat, I swear he thought he was Deitrich herself. Joe started to turn.

"George…" I muttered eying the miner carefully.

"GOTTA PENNY!"

Joe turned a round real fast. "SHUT UP!" He snarled.

"I'd stop George. He'll kill ya." I muttered.

It didn't get any farther then that. The doors slammed open and the lights flicked on. The whole auditorium groaned.

An officer charged towards the front of the room. "Quiet! Listen! Elements of the 1st and 6th SS Panzer Division have broken through in the Ardennes forest. They've over run the 28th infantry and elements of the fourth. All officers report to respective HQ's. All passes are canceled."

A wave of No's traveled through the room but the officer ignored them. "The rest of you report to your barracks." He charged out of the room.

My soul sunk and I sighed. Luz and I made our way out.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a flash of pale color. My head yanked around. "George I'll catch up with you later"

I weaved between chairs and came to a stop a smile fixed firmly in place. "Buck your back!"

Buck smiled at me and rubbed my head. "Hey Smalls, good to see you." I gave him a one armed hug.

"Good to see you too. How's it feel?"

He shrugged and we began to walk back.

"You're coming with us then?"

"Yeah I'm healed enough for that. It just hurts to sit for to long."

I walked half way to HQ with him before we split.

"I'll see you later Fey. Stay out of trouble."

"I'll try. Cant promise anything." I gave him one last smile and walked off.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

It started snowing that night and we stood huddled around blazing barrels waiting for the signal to load up. We were on our way to the Ardennes forest. We had a new commander, a man named Dike, Norman Dike. I had a bad feeling about him. I had always thought a man like Compton or Welsh should take over the company, someone who we trusted. Hell even Speirs would be ok. But it was no place for me to say. So here we were, working our way into the winter months without proper clothing, food or supplies.

We were packed into trucks and we drove into the night, I couldn't feel my fingers, and moving my toes was out of the option. I ended up sitting on my fingers to keep them warm. I leaned against Buck, half for comfort and half for heat.

"I guess the Luftwaffe is asleep." He commented. "No blackout tonight."

"Christ I miss those C-47's" Bill growled.

"Yeah we got a tail jump here." Malarkey responded. I grinned slightly; well at least someone was in good spirits.

The rest of the men weren't in such a good mood. They started to pick on a new recruit. "You got ammo Juni?"

"Just what I'm carrying." He answered carefully, trying to appease the men.

"How about socks you got socks?"

I hope I've got socks. I thought darkly.

"You need four minimum" Malark instructed. "Feet, hands, neck, balls!"

"Extra socks covers 'em all" The group replied. Poor Juni looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

"We can remember that but not the socks." I added jokingly.

The men continued to berate him. "Anyone got smokes?" Guarnere called.

"I bet Junior has smokes."

"Yeah I got smokes." The men reached out and called for them. We took a turn and I could see trucks pulling over to the side. Ours came to a stop and rw evacuated like a river. I smacked my hands together trying to get them warmed up.

"Alright guys fifteen minutes" Buck called.

I drifted off in search of a bush. I found one and quickly did what I needed before tramping back to the men. They were crowded around a gasoline fed fire.

"Where the hell are we?" George asked.

"We ain't in hell, to damn cold." Malarkey answered. I shrived beside them and looked around the truck stop. Men wandered in from the dark. Most were covered in dried blood and bandages.

"My god." I muttered yanking on Georges arm. "Look at them."

They walked past us like zombies, their line compact and long.

"Hey where are you going?" Bill asked grabbing one of the men

"They slaughtered us. They came out of nowhere. You got to get out of here." He pulled away and continued walking.

Buck looked to me. "Get yourself some ammo." He walked off and tried to scrounge.

"Hey pal!" I called "Let me have your ammo." I had talked to five men and was in the process of slinging the belts around my waist when one man caught my eye.

"Holy Mother…" I walked towards him, depression leaking into my being. "Please no. Please no." But it was. I knew that body anywhere, even if it was hidden behind a uniform, the face was ingrained into my mind, the eyes yellow green like my own and I knew if I took of his helmet, his black hair would be in a state of disarray.

"ANTONIE!" I screamed running now. The man turned a shocked look upon his pale face.

"KID!" He called yanking me into a hug. My brother. My brother was here. My world came crashing down.

**-Whoo well would you look at that! Two stories in a week! I'm on a roll if there ever was one. Well on another note, writing the middle of this story was awkward. Seeing how the episode was told in a series of flashbacks. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please shoot me a message because they make me insanely HAPPY! Thanks for reading! **


	13. Contrast

**First off I want to thank everyone who messaged me! Your words truly inspire me greatly and I adore hearing from you. I also wish to give a special shout to the new readers! I hope you all enjoy the following chapters. Have a Happy New Year! **

My face was pressed into Antoine's shoulder and my arms were clamped around his thin frame with all intentions of never letting go. He rocked me gently side to side, his nose pressed against my dirty hair. My helmet sat forlornly on the frozen ground.

He whispered my name, each time it came out more agonizingly then the last.

"Why Fey?" He asked, his voice was almost a whisper. His arms fell to his side. "Why you! Why do you have to be here?" His anguished words hung in the cold air.

My mind was in turmoil, and tears threatened to flow from my eyes. I struggled to hold them back, wanting to throw my arms around him once more and be immersed in his comfort. I wanted to go back to that moment where all that mattered was him, not why, or how, just him.

"I don't know. It's just…" I felt my self choking up. "Things just happened… I don't know how or why, or for what." I licked my lips and stared at his ragged jacket. "For a time I thought I was here to protect my boys, but now I understand the depth of war. I realized there is nothing I can do except join in their torment."

Men walked past us in the dark, ignoring our stagnant figures. I looked back to his face and could see a frown. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at me. "No," Antoine shook his head. "You're not here because of the soldiers. Do you know who?"

My mind sparked, and flew back into place. "I'm here because of Angelo. Do you know Angelo?"

He shook his head. "I know Angelo but we're not here because of him. We're here because of the Organization."

"You mean there are more of them?"

My eyebrows crunched together and I thought of the fake memories, I grabbed his shoulder and looked at the Patch. Double A's, He was a paratrooper, in the 82nd division. "I don't know who these people are, but they sure are thorough." I muttered.

"RUSSO HURRY UP!" We both jerked towards the sound and Antoine swore darkly.

"Listen to me Fey!" He grabbed my shoulders and shook my slightly. "What ever you do Fey. Don't mess with the Organization. They'll kill you. You hear me!" I pulled him into one last hug, cutting him off then watched as he ran down the road. I watched until the darkness swallowed him up. Tears rolled down my face. I stooped to pick up my helmet and whipped them away, slinking back towards the men. For the first time in weeks, I felt completely and utterly alone.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

My feet crunched into the powdery snow and I smiled slightly still gaining a small amount of joy from hearing the sound. I pulled my jacket tighter about my body and the pleasure disappeared. It was too damn cold in this forest. I picked my way over broken rock and stumbled onto a motor road. I sighed and backtracked. Too damn confusing too.

We had started digging in last night, but the frozen ground hindered our activity. Not to mention in the grand scheme of things our situation hadn't improved. We were still short on everything from bullets to morphine. I still hadn't heard if Eugene had found a pair of damned scissors.

The men were getting squirmy and would do just about anything to get their hands on a pretty smoker. I stuffed the packs of smokes I had accumulated to the bottom of my bag, hoping to trade them with a local for supplies. Unfortunately, I hadn't seen any locals around besides the ever friendly corpses of allied men who had been here before us.

I continued tramping through the woods, skirting past the corpse that had become a marker for my travels and walked a bit more before coming upon the squads section of the line. I stooped next to an empty hole, squashed in between the Toye/Guarnere household, and George Luz's home for the wanderers. I raised my hand in greeting to aforementioned Luz and squinted down the line, trying to find my bunk buddy in the fog.

I sighed, dropped my pack and grabbed my entrenching tool. I muttered angrily to myself as I tried to wedge the dulling blade into the frozen loam.

"Fey!" I jerked slightly as I looked up. "Fey you don't have any morphine or anything do ya?" Doc's chocolate brown eyes looked like moons amongst his white skin.

"I think so." I grabbed my bad and dug inside. "Got a morphine, and a bandage. You aren't still looking for scissors are ya?"

He glanced warily at the sky. "Yeah I'm still looking for sizzuhs."

I held up the morphine and smiled playfully at him. "Now you better not be using this all on your self ya hear? Cause that my friend is called addiction, and you don't want to be getting into that."

He rolled his eyes and tapped my helmet. "Stay safe Fey." He grabbed his stuff and jogged past Bill and into the fog

I scooped more out of my foxhole and called over to George. I paused halfway out of my shallow trench. There was a high pitched whine in the air. "GET DOWN!" I roared. Fire exploded in the trees.

I flattened down into the dirt and waited for it to be over. The thunder stopped rolling and I sat up. I looked around making a mental tally of the men and sighed in relief. I could hear the Germans yelling and grabbed my gun. I scanned the line and hoped Buck would return.

Snow began to fell and dusk fell quickly. The foxhole was about four feet deep and I too tired to continue digging. I leaned against the side and stared at the chocolate walls. A thin layer of snow dusted my legs, and hid in the creases of my clothing.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"_Russo!_"

I whipped around and stared up at the icy sky. Bill knelt above me. "You've gotta stay awake until Buck comes back you got me?"

I rubbed at my eyes and yawned. "Got it Bill." He disappeared down into his own hole and I glanced around. The forest was dark, yet I could see the moons reflection bouncing off the men's helmets. I glanced at my watch. 10:30. Compton was late. Real late. I grabbed for my gun and hissed when my skin contacted the frigid metal.

I heard movement behind me and I looked about. I let out an easy sigh and smiled slightly. "What's up Gene?"

"Where's Joe?" The medic squirmed over my way, I pointed to the left. "That hole there.. You haven't seen the Lieutenant have ya?"

"Hours ago, up at HQ." He moved past me and crouched beside Toye's home. He talked over there for a second before jogging down the line. I turned back to the front and watched my breath turn white.

Buck slid down beside me and turned my way. "Doc Roe said you were looking for me."

I made a face and pulled my arms tight around me. "You were gone for so damn long." This cold was really making me bitter. "I think I know why. You wanted to get out of digging this damn thing." I motioned at the foxhole.

"Hey now that's not fair. I had to get my orders, and get an idea of the surroundings." He nudged me with his elbow and I noticed he was fortunate enough to have a long pea coat.

I frowned again and leaned against his side trying to warm myself up. He put an arm around my shoulder and we sat in silence.

"I didn't really mean it." I murmured.

"I know."

The next day the trees began crashing down. Shells erupted in the atmosphere, and the large pines shattered. Shafts of wood fell like javelins.

I set out for a walk early that morning, trying to melt the ice in my veins. Buck was still asleep, wrapped in the two blankets. My arms were tight around my body and each step sent a shock up my numb toes. My boots crunched against the dry snow and I readjusted my gun, swinging it to my other shoulder.

I'm not quite sure were I was going, all the trees looked the same, the foxholes had disappeared. I stopped for a moment and looked up at the white grey skies. I loved how the tall pines contrasted against the heavens.

It was then the world erupted. Explosions of orange and red broke the monotony of black and white. Branches, needles, and those killer slivers dove for the ground. Noise and color hit from all around. I drove forward in a panic, pressing myself against a thick tree trunk. A shell exploded above me and my tree groaned. I sprang away as it split and cashed into the ground. My feet churned the soil filled snow. Deep in my heart I knew this was only the beginning. I knew it could only get worse.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Our company's pastor held mass that afternoon. It was a cold and solemn occasion. When we broke apart Malarkey shared his view. "Well boys. We can now die in a state of grace." We laughed quietly and headed out.

I swung my M-1 to my shoulder and followed the wave of men. The brass was sending us on a patrol. A Kraut hunt actually. I chuckled slightly at the morbid thought. I don't think were going to be finding any cabbages.

I checked my supplies as I waited for the officer to show. I had two grenades and five or so clips of ammunition. I pulled my bayonet half way out of its scabbard to make sure it hadn't frozen. I looked around at the other men. I saw most of my friends, although Joe Toye was missing. I suppose it was on account of his missing boots.

"Where the hell is Lt. Dike?" Someone muttered.

"Man couldn't find a Snow ball in a blizzard." George muttered.

"Alright! Get into tactical columns!" Lipton yelled as Dike suddenly appeared from the mist.

I moved into position and we walked down the fog covered road. Snow began is speedy decent and mixed in with the already blinding mist. We split up when we reached our target area. I was pared with a recruit whose mind was more worried about what I was doing then the enemy.

We crouched down before a pile of felled logs and I inspected the area. I could see two men about 20 feet away, but all else was lost in the dense haze. Suddenly one of the men burst from his waiting spot and German machineguns hammered. The man went down. The rest of the squad swarmed around us.

The man across the way motioned at me and yelled. "How close is he?"

"Around thirty feet!" the man talked swiftly the others and fired shots towards the Germans. The man beside me yelped when bullets slammed into the logs. Bits of sawdust floated to the ground. I turned to the man beside me. "Stay here."

I crawled out from behind the log pile and inched my way closer to the wounded man. He held a bloody hand towards me and clutched at his neck with the other. We were about five feet apart. The men yelled behind me but I couldn't catch their words. The firing on both sides doubled. I grabbed the man's hand and pulled. His body moved slightly. My heart thumped like a drum line. I pushed my self to my knees and slid my arms under his. I stood up and scurried backwards.

I made it ten feet… A line of bullets charged my way. My world slowed down as my thigh ripped open. I wanted to scream many things as I fell, but as I hit the ground, the only word that left my mouth was a ragged. "OH!"

I looked down at the boy, his hand returned to his throat and he held out his other pleadingly. My eyes met his. I grabbed his hand and pulled. He kicked with his feet and we inched closer. Lipton was yelling at us motioning with his hand. "_Come on!_" He screamed. "Come on!"

"We gotta get out a here." The voices were all around us.

"Fall back Fall back!"

The look on Lip's face was pure anguish. He reached out pleadingly, but we were too far away.

"DON'T MOVE! JUST STAY! WE'RE COMMING BACK!" The men ran through the fog and disappeared.

We lay there gasping, a lone German continued to shoot into the haze.

My mind was like pop rocks and soda. It fizzed and rolled. Pain mixed with adrenalin. I placed a hand over the recruits wound and laced my fingers with his. We lay in the falling snow, waiting and hoping for them to return. I watched as the life slipped out of the boys face. Tears rolled down my face and onto the frozen ground. "WHY?" I pleaded.

I received a gunshot as an answer.


	14. Death and All of His Friends

**BETA NOTE!: Dude, I never get one of these! THIS IS AWE- *is brick'd by Hansolo***

My hand was so pale against the misty cloud that we called heaven. Deformed even, with its misshapen layer of red. As I laid there in the snow, I wished I could see the sky. A sky so red it would make the blood disappear so I would only see my pale white hand.

Julian, poor Julian, lay there in the snow, his dark eyes still livid in death. His hand reached out, cold and spectral. The forest seemed silent except for my throbbing heart.

My leg was wet, so sickeningly wet. I was so hot despite the snow. I pushed myself up, my backpack giving support to my slouch. I looked at my leg and fire works exploded in my eyes. "Oh God." My voice waved like a violinist teasing the stings. I fell back against my pack, watched my breath disappear into the fog.

I struggled to flip myself over. The wound sent tremors up my body as it struck the cold snow. My body seized and I moaned. Movement returned to my limbs at a snails pace. I moved onto my elbow and pushed with my good leg, slowly moving forward. A streak of red marked my sluggish progress.

My eyes were locked on a tall fir. I was halfway there when my body failed me. My chest heaved and my sight grew dull. Fingers clutching at blood washed pants; a scream tore out my throat. A flock of crows burst from the trees, swirling into the white abyss.

If it weren't for the inner turmoil of my mind, I may have noticed the crunch of snow under boots that was steadily getting closer. A hand touched my shoulder and my eyelid flicked open. "Hey…" My voice sounded weak.

"Everything's going to be O.K." I tried to see his face, but the light was behind him in such a way that I could only see shadow. He flipped me over and pulled out a bandage. He fit the large square over my thigh, wrapping up tight.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Fey…Frank Russo."

He was silent for a moment as he pulled me into a sitting position. Kneeling before me, he pulled my arms around his shoulders and slid his arms under my knees. He faltered slightly as he tried to get up before staring to walk.

Each step sent a little wave of agony through my being. I gave a small grunt with each step. My head was growing heavy and I rested against his shoulder.

"Don't fall asleep, you got me? Stay here!"

_Stay here? Stay here? Where was I going to go but here? _The two words rested heavy in my mind. I thought of the road to Carentan. "Stay with Eugene." Buck had said. "Stay back. Stay out of this." I remembered the roadside ditch and the hiding soldiers. I remember thinking Buck was in trouble, I wanted to help him. I remember falling, a hand triggering my decent. "Stay here," It has said.

The snow crunched underneath size nine boots. My eyes opened slowly and my words were thick. "Who are you?"

"Speirs… Ron Speirs."

As we walked ,I drifted in and out of awareness, not quite unconscious ,but hardly functional. Speirs tried to keep me awake, but he too fell silent.

No one noticed when we came upon the clearing. The patrol was wrapped up in its loss, their minds thick with grief.

"WE NEED A MEDIC OVER HERE!" Speirs shouted, breaking the solemn mood. Heads snapped in our direction and Lipton charged over. He wriggled his arms under mine and the two men lowered me to the ground. Lipton placed my helmet on the ground beside me, yelling, "GENE GET OVER HERE!"

My eyes flicked open and I smiled weakly. "Hey Lip."

"Hey Frankie, how you doing?"

I let that one slip and gazed around at the faces that loomed over me. Gene's beautiful complexion entered my view for a moment before disappearing.

"Did you give him any morphine?"

"I didn't have any," Speirs muttered, " Only the bandage."

"Ok, Lip, stick this in his right leg." Lipton followed his orders and slid the needle into my leg. "I need to check his wound before we move him. It's bleeding bad." Gene ripped open the old bandage and prodded my skin.

"**God Gene**!" My fingers tore at the snowy ground. "**Stop it that**…!" My vision swam and I didn't remember anymore.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I woke up seven hours later and wished I was still asleep. People were screaming, the air stunk of blood and waste. I was so doped up it took me a while to realize where I was.

I wasn't in hell, I was in a hospital.

Nurses were rushing around while doctors poked their heads into the main room to scream orders between surgeries. It was a constant movement. New patients were brought in, dead were removed, and those waiting would be taken into surgery.

My heart pounded each time a nurse drew close; I prayed that they wouldn't pick me, that my wound was superficial and therefore not the most dire thing around.

I tried to locate Eugene to see if he was still here, but I couldn't sit up to gaze over the cots for fear of being noticed. I lay back down on the cold stone floor and gazed at the high stone ceiling.

Thirty minutes later, a small group of men charged down the stairs and brought a flurry of movement. They placed their charge on one of the stone tables and a nurse joined them. I craned my head trying to see if it was Gene, but the only identifying mark on the soldiers outfit was his medic's band.

The men whirled about as they struggled to save the man, finally amidst as small temper tantrum and growling in French I realized one of the medics was indeed Gene. The torrent of movement slowed to a trickle as the hospital staff shooed the medics away. The Doc gazed slowly over the wounded possibly looking for me, or other men from the company.

I winced and I propped myself up on an elbow, waving for him. He glanced around before floating over, rubbing his hands on an already blood stained towel. He crouched beside me and I sunk back to the floor.

"How you doin' Fey?"

"Scared Gene. Their going to call my bluff soon, if they haven't already. I ain't been in into the surgery yet, but when I do, they're going to know, and they're going to tell Winters or colonel Sink. Hell, Doc, I don't know what to do." I looked at him desperately, praying he had some sort of answer.

He licked his pale lips and stared dully at my face. I gazed into his eyes and saw the flashes of insanity in them. He was wearing down. I had seen men who had been stolen by shell shock. I remember watching them leave when Lipton sent them back off the line for a few days. I remember feeling as if I was losing them. I looked at him in horror, realizing that insanity had even touched our medic.

Gene stood, breaking our eye contact and gazed around, his eyes locked on one of the nurses. "I'll be back." He charged off without another word.

I lay back down and closed my eyes, trying to desensitize myself to the noise of the hospital. Darkness slowly overcame me and I fell asleep.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

They came for me that night. The two of them, Eugene and the nurse, Renee, lifted me up onto a trolley and pushed me down the candle lit hallway. I gazed at both of their faces and swallowed. We entered one of the surgical rooms and the Renee flicked on one of the lights. I was moved to the operating table, looking at both of them uneasily. "Are you sure about this?"

Eugene approached me with a syringe in hand. His half crazed eyes glinted in the bright lights,"It's the only way." He pricked my skin and I plunged into oblivion.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

I had been billeted at one of the houses near the hospital and Renee would visit every so often to make sure infection wasn't setting in. Luckily ,we found that my wound scabbed over quickly and the possibility of gangrene was halved. Despite this, Renee estimated it would be another month before I would be fully healed. Not to mention the time I would have to spend in rehabilitation. These were statistics I didn't agree with.

Carefully, when I was alone, I would hobble around my small room, struggling to perfect walking once more. The muscles of my injured leg were tight, and with Renee's help I practiced stretching. I had been at the house for 5 days and deemed progress to slow. I wanted to get back to the men as soon as possible.

Five more days past and my movement had nearly returned, I had taken to delivering messages for the town's people and my strength had begun to return as well. Unfortunately running, or even jogging, was still beyond my limits. I tried a few times, but my leg would cramp and the muscle would burn.

Snow covered the streets and I was coming back from a message run. It was cold even in the trench coat I borrowed from one of the wounded. I limped down the slushy streets and paused momentarily by the motor pool. I scanned the faces hoping I would see one of the 101st men. I sighed and turned away.

"You probably shouldn't be walking around just yet." A man commented dryly.

I turned around, looking the man over. "You probably shouldn't be going without a jacket sir. It _is _December." I smiled slightly, chiding myself for my insolence. This is not a man you tease.

Lieutenant Speirs snorted and shook his head, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his helmet. "One of the boys in Dog Company lost his in a shelling; he's borrowing mine while I get a replacement."

My eyebrows rose slowly. Who knew he cared so much…"Right, Sir, I shouldn't have…"

"Shouldn't have what? Stated the obvious or said something that could have made me mad? "His tone was slightly condescending." What, you think I'm going to kill you?"

"No sir, that's just rumor, you know they hold no merit." I said carefully.

Half a smile crossed his grit covered face, "If you say so Russo." He turned towards the jeep and pulled open one of the doors. "Get your stuff. We're going."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The Jeep came to a sliding halt before a pulsing mass of men. I hopped out of the jeep with a grimace, the cold air making my muscles stiff even with my new jacket. I turned and gave Speirs a salute, which he returned, before stalking off.

I hobbled through the men shooting out greetings as I passed acquaintances. Happily, I noted, that most of the faces I knew were still there. Buck waved me over to where he, Joe, and Bill were eating. He squeezed my shoulder and smiled in that way of his, "Wasn't expecting to see you so soon."

"Yeah, figured you'd be out till after Christmas." Bill put in between bites.

Joe just shrugged and whapped me on the helmet, his form of a greeting. I grinned at them and shrugged, "I don't know, just figured you guys needed me."

"Well you figured wrong," Bill chirped before he held out his hand. "Good to see you back kid. Buck was getting lonely without ya."

I shook his hand and snickered, "I'm touched Buck. I didn't think you cared so deeply for little ole me."

Buck glared at both of us before saying, "Yeah ok, go get yourself some grub Frankie, I don't want you going on any missions until your completely healed. You hear me? I'm going to go report to Winters, so you stay with them. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, He's got it Buck, go do your thing." Bill wrapped his arm around my shoulder and dragged me to the food line.

Another week past with little excitement. I would sleep, watch the line, work the leg, laugh with Bill, wait for Buck, cheer up Doc Roe, and hide from shells. It was a normal with until the morning I woke up to clear skies. I pulled the blanket back off the fox hole and gazed up at the blue sky.

The army made a supply drop that morning, and for the first time that month we actually had equipment.

The city of Bastogne was bombed that night. Gene had gone into town with Lt. Welsh and returned with the news. The hospital got hit, and so had Renee.

**Authors note- Why Hello all, as I am sure you have noticed I now have a beta. (waits for claps to die) Yes indeed it is a momentous day and I hope you enjoyed the chapter(after waiting for 2+ months) as my Beta, Sam, just reminded me. So as always sorry for the wait, I shall try to update faster. I hope you all have a wonderful Spring Break.**

-Hansolo18


	15. Something Wicked Comes This Way

_The library, with its large windows, was always cold during the winter, yet despite this fact it was always occupied. The usual residents spent their time scurrying between computers and the numerous shelves. Once they found what they were looking for, they would take the thin volumes to their desks and the process would begin anew. _

_One of the occupants refused to do such menial tasks and spent his time in an armchair, leg draped over the side with a novel or TV screen in hand. The blond would look up every once in a while and gaze at the dozens of screens in front of him. He would smirk quietly to himself, at some private little joke, and return to his reading. _

_But recently, things had been different. Angelo still came to the library and the workers sill continued in their bee like way. It was the higher ups who were making the disturbance; they were getting closer to solving his riddle. _

_The click of the intercom echoed around the room before a woman's voice broke the quiet chatter, "All Level One DPTA Members report to meeting room 3. Thank you." Angelo grimaced as he put his book down and whisked out of the room. _

_He pulled open the door to the aforementioned meeting room and slipped inside. The five other members stood around the table glaring at the young man. _

_"We took a look at your files Angelo. You never fixed that problem." _

_The blond froze his hand on the door knob, "What do you mean? Of course I fixed it." _

_The voices came from all around the room, "Don't play dumb Angelo, we know, you can't hide it anymore."_

_"The girl is still there, after six months. Isn't that long enough to fix the problem?" _

_Angelo let go of the knob and walked further into the room, "A week was enough time to fix the problem," he grinned, "Only it didn't need fixing. Everything is fine just the way it is." _

_"What are you saying!? Don't you understand the consequences of this!?" A woman screeched. _

_Angelo looked taken aback for a moment, "Consequences...?" He smirked, "You don't get it. There __**are**__ no consequences. This isn't just something you can stop from happening. It was always meant to happen. I was the only one with enough balls to make it work."_

_He walked back to the door and pulled it open, "You can't change the past. It's already happened." _

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

A few days after Christmas, Patton's army broke through the German line. Easy company was no longer cut off from the Allied advance and supplies came pouring through. None of us, however, would acknowledge the fact we had been saved. We didn't need to be saved. We were doing just fine, thank you very much.

There was, however, one good thing about the reformed connection; badly needed supplies flowed to the front. Many of the men had winter coats, and we finally had more ammunition.

The higher ups ignored our fretful appearance and slim numbers and sent Easy Company to clear the Rorschach, the woods surrounding a town called Foy. Walking through that snow encased wood was some of the only exercise I had gotten since returning to Easy nine days ago. Buck had been true to his word and used all his power to keep me holed up in the den.

So there we were, slogging through some forest in Europe at the front of the attack just like always. Luckily, our slogging met little resistance, and lost only a handful of men due to sporadic pockets of Germans.

When we arrived at our new positions and we immediately stated digging in.

Buck lent a hand for a time, breaking through the nearly impenetrable outer crust, but he left soon after. Twenty five minutes of fruitless digging left me with some very choice words directed in the blond mans direction.

Once again, Bill and Joe were my foxhole neighbors and George had bunked down with Babe Heffron, on the other side of the aforementioned soldiers. Toye and Guarnere were having better luck with their foxhole, and a respectable pile of dirt was mauling the pristine snow.

A shot rang out through the trees and I dropped down into the shallow hole, waiting for another. A shout echoed through the forest as Gene ran past, his medic bag banging into his leg.

I later found out that it was Hoobler who got shot, pegged in the leg by his own Lugar; he had just found the damn thing too.

Buck returned to the hole shortly after, looking too depressed for me to chew out, so I tucked my anger away for another time. I gave him a look, pointed at the shovel, and walked off.

My leg was still paining me and I hadn't been able to check the wound since I came back to the line; but in truth, I wasn't worried about myself. Gene was the cause of my concern. He still suffered from the death of Renee, and I was worried that soon the depression would push him over the edge and into shell shock. That possibility was something I wasn't willing to play with.

It was an eerie sensation tramping around the snowy forest, seeing as how events turned out last time I was there. Truthfully, I really didn't want to be alone, but the men had told me Gene had gone into the forest, and my apprehension increased ten fold.

Dry powder crunched beneath my feet, and trees flicked by like a monotonous picture book. Snow was snow and dirt was dirt, and no medic rose before me. Then a voice came out of nowhere.

"What are you doing here, soldier?"

I flinched as I turned, scared by the sudden noise.

There stood Lt. Dike, the man who did nothing but wander around. It took me a moment to find my voice.

"Looking for Doc Roe, Sir." How I hated that word, Sir, not to mention saying it to a man who was hardly worth the trouble. It made my blood boil. "You haven't seen him have you?"

"He's not here. Go back to your foxhole." His speech was broken, almost as if he was an actor who forgot his lines.

My eyes narrowed and I adjusted my helmet, pulling it down over my eyes, "Alright." I muttered before turning away, following my footprints back though the forest. I felt his eyes on my back as I walked off.

The light was dim when I yielded my search for Gene, knowing a shelling was likely to begin.

I sank into the foxhole beside Buck, groping for the extra shovel. We worked side by side for the next hour, suffering in the silence. Knowing we would talk later, we rested side by side in the cold.

It was a few days later when I finally caught up to Gene. A barrage had just occurred but, luckily, most of my friends were unharmed. Joe Toye, however, had caught a splinter of wood in the arm.

I wandered over to the neighboring foxhole and crouched down beside the two men, "I've been looking for you Gene." I grumbled, "Why are you so damn hard to find?"

Gene continued to wrap Joes arm, ignoring the other mans cold stare. I gave Joe a small smile before continuing to drill the Doctor.

"Its like you've been avoiding me. I haven't done anything," I paused for a moment, "I know that Renee…" He gave me a glare and I paused for a moment, "I just want to know if you're ok."

Joe glanced awkwardly between the two of us, "Look, if this is something you two need to work out, I'll just go."

I glanced at the miner, and shook my head, "No its ok, Joe." I said softly as I tapped him on the helmet. "You just hang tight ok? We'll get you back off the line, and you can get some hot chow. Sound good?"

He shook his head for I knew he would rather stay right here.

My gaze returned to the medic and I posed my question once more. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Fey." Gene muttered as he tied the bandage in place. He stood up and helped Toye to his feet, "We'll talk later, I promise." I watched at the two men walked away.

With a sigh, I limped back to my foxhole and wasted away.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Foxhole duty was making me right down pissy. The endless cold and generally unappetizing scenery did little to improve my venomous attitude. Buck was still sticking to his guns and would hardly let me go above ground, at least when he was around. Luckily though, it wasn't too hard to convince Guarnere or Luz to cover for me when I did manage to escape. At times, I almost worried I was getting the same reputation as Dike. I disliked the possibility of becoming Foxhole-Fey with utmost vehemence.

Along with Buck's strict foxhole regimen, Dike also was a cause of agitation. The man was completely useless. He would disappear for hours on end, and when he did show his ugly mug, it would only be for a few seconds so he could scream an order at Lipton, or one of the other lieutenants, and charge back off into the forest. He was at least the inspiration for some rather humorous impersonations.

During the many hours I spent by my lonesome, staring into the white and black void, I contemplated who would make a good leader for Easy. Dick Winters was the obvious choice; he was a man we could all respect, but we knew he was never coming back. Compton, I felt, was the only real option. It may only have been prejudice, but I knew Lt. Shames or Peacock could never measure up to the natural authority Buck controlled.

Ah, and speaking of the white haired wonder, here he came, prowling the frontlines. I pushed myself up out of the hole and stretched. He came over and stood beside me. "The trucks came from the back, they've got hot grub on them, go get yourself some and come right back."

"Yeah, yeah, ok Buck." I grumbled as I walked past him. I was two foxholes away before he yelled,

"**Don't do anything stupid!**"

"Yeah, 'stupid' says the man who jumps out of airplanes." I muttered to myself.

Later that night I was back in my foxhole, leaning against the cold dirt wall. I had a blanket thrown over my shoulders, but it wasn't enough to protect against the frigid night air. Snow tumbled into the foxhole when Buck slid down beside me, pulling out his own blanket. He took the extra fabric of mine and pulled it over himself before throwing his blanket on top. I repositioned myself so I was against his side and we sat in silence for a moment before he turned to me.

"What's going on?"

"Not much, just thinking." I replied.

He stared at me, hoping I would continue with out prodding. When I didn't, he nudged me with his elbow to make sure I was still paying attention, "About what?"

"A beach… where its 114o and there are two tanned babes playing volleyball in front of me."

"Babes? You mean like girls?"

" No," I laughed, "_Babes,_ you get it?" *

He looked at me and shook his head as he smiled to himself. "The cold's getting to you, Fey."

"The war is getting to me, Buck." I answered in return.

My response seemed to weigh heavy on his mind and silence over took us once more.

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

The following day crept past with little activity, the Germans didn't conduct an attack and no mortar rounds fell upon our line. In light of the situation, Buck had finally relinquished his orders of foxhole confinement and I spent the evening wandering the lines and strengthening my healing leg. It was like old times once more.

Shadows had crept over the snow as I set out from my foxhole, hobbling along the trodden path towards Dog Company territory. I had heard Gene had taken up lodgings in that general area and I was hoping to catch him. Unfortunately, it seemed the gods were not willing to let that happen. Instead of my planned rendezvous with Gene, I encountered another.

There was a space of time when a foxhole was not in sight and the path became less trod. Worry overtook me as the sun ducked behind the tall pines and the forest was all but shadow. I tread carefully, trying to make my way back to the lines before the light had completely disappeared. I knew that the dark made soldiers jumpy, more apt to fire, and I didn't want to be hit by friendly fire.

As I rounded a bend, I came across an ocean of blood. In a rush, I ducked behind a tree and clutched my gun close to my chest. I took a few deep breaths to try and calm my racing heart and then glanced around a better view.

My eyes flicked over the forestry and the blood covered snow. Two bodies lay motionless and in the dark mist I couldn't tell what nation they were from. Scuttling out from behind my cover, I followed the red trail to the bodies.

Two Germans lay close together, faces down in the snow; their white uniforms were tainted by the bloody holes in their backs. One mans hand rested atop the others back.

My mind shuddered to a halt. All I could see were the men and the blood. I wanted to look away, to do something else, to leave, but I didn't, I couldn't, I was frozen. The ground around the three vacant bodies was awash with footprints.

A hand came down upon my shoulder, and my mind came back with a sharp gasp. I yanked around and my breath jittered.

"Lieutenant!" I wheezed.

Speirs stared past me with his hand still resting upon my shoulder, "Beautiful isn't it?"

"What?" My words fluttered along with my pounding heart.

"The compassion you experience during war." He said this so nonchalantly, I was left wondering if he realized the flaw of the scene before us.

"I don't understand, sir."

He paused for a moment, shaded eyes squinting slightly as he said, "It's like dancing." He took a step forward and his hand slid off my shoulder. He turned and stared at me with demon eyes, "Do you like to dance, Russo?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

"I mean exactly what I said. _Do you like to dance?"_ His eyes were transfixed on my face.

"Not really, Sir." A cold wave of fear sent shivers down my spine.

He snorted slightly, "War is like dancing. Everyone has a partner, and with that person, they think they're safe, they think their friend will always be there to catch them if they fall. But in the end, everyone was only ever dancing with one person."

"Who, sir?"

He smirked slightly as he tilted his head to the side, "Everybody dances with death."

He gave my shoulder a pat and walked off into the forest. I stood in the ocean of blood, taken over by fear once more.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The next day, Winters had second platoon brought off the line for a few hours of R&R. It was a relatively nice experience, being able to relax after having to be on guard for so long. We were given hot food, and one of the propaganda leaders brought out his video camera and filmed some of the men's antics. The best part of the day, however, was the return of Joe Toye.

The tall miner was in relatively good spirits when he joined Bill, Babe, George, and I, as we waited in line for food. A new replacement sparked a rant about the proper terms of being wounded, which is not called injured thank you very much.

Skip Muck took the matter personally and led the kid from group to group to give and inventory of wounds.

First, he stopped by Bull Randleman and the Liebgott party before making his way over to my group.

"Now, George here," Smokey said as he clapped his hand on the man's shoulder, "He's never been hit. You're a lucky bastard George."

"Takes one to know one." Luz commented making a bit of a face at Skip.

Muck shrugged then continued, "Now, see that skinny kid here." He pointed to me, "That's Frank Russo; he got pegged in the leg while having a hero moment back in Bastogne. How's that leg, Frankie?"

I smiled down at my stew before saying. "Just dandy Skip, thanks for askin'."

The two continued on their way. George and I picked at our food and talked about nonsensical things. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of Winters red hair, it surprised me for a moment because I had forgotten how vibrant color could be. I returned to my senses when he placed his helmet back on and noticed who stood beside him.

My cold frosted completion turned sallow and I looked down at my food.

Luz noticed my sudden change in attitude and looked around, "What's wrong Frank."

"Just Speirs, George, it's ok."

He glanced from the Lieutenant to me, "Does our resident psychopath have his sights on you?" He paused for a moment and answered his own question, "You're right, he does seem to orbit around you." He clapped me on the shoulder, "Good luck with that."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The following afternoon, we left the Rorschach and reinstated ourselves in our old positions overlooking the town of Foy. Unfortunately for us, our foxholes had been used by the first battalion and the only thing I could think to compare them to was a low rent shack that had been inhabited by chimps for the last year. The state of our foxholes really wasn't the cause of our concern, but the split trees and dirt washed snow; signs of a heavy shelling.

The company spent most of that afternoon fortifying the positions, hoping to get as much done as possible before the Germans started their barrage. For once Buck and I were both working on the lair. He would go off and drag back pine branches which I would arrange in a pretty fashion before continuing to excavate deeper into the ground. Then out of the blue, a bang and whine of an incoming shell.

"**Get down**!" I shrieked as I scrambled for the shallow ditch. Men clambered past me, trying to get to their own.

Mama Lipton ran past, yelling for the men to take cover. Bill dove for me and we flailed admits the raining ground.

Needles, branches, hunks of wood, and clumps of dirt turned the sky above us into a kaleidoscope of horror.

Bill pulled his arm around me as we cowered against the ground and yelled in my ear. "**Where's Joe**?"

"**I don't know!" **I called in return. I put my head down and waited for it to stop.

Explosions clashed through the trees.

Suddenly, silence overcame the forest; slowly, I lifted my head up and shook the muck from my eyes. My head was buzzing as if it were filled with a thousand angry bees. Bill and I looked at each other and slowly sat up. A lone voice sailed through the trees.

I turned my head and tried to find where it was coming from, "Who is that?" My voice echoed in my ears.

"I dunno." Bill looked out into the trees. The call came once more, "Is that Joe?"

Joe. Oh god, _no_! No, not now! "It's not. it can't be." I could hear the hysteria creeping into my voice.

"It's him! I know it." Guarnere climbed out of the shallow grave and took off running.

"**No, Bill! Don't go, **_**please**_**!" **I started after him, but a heavy body crashed into mine and pulled me to the ground. I struggled against weight, but the man's arms were firmly around me. "No, Buck! No!" I moaned. "He's going to get hurt. You gotta let me go!"

He dragged me back into the hole and pushed me to the ground just as the shelling started once more. Angry tears welled in my eyes as I thrashed about, trying to get loose, trying to save my three best friends.

But fate never seems to work that way. As it turned out, I would loose two of my best friends at nearly the same instant, the third would be lost later on.

Finally as the last thunderous crash echoed through the forest, Buck's arms loosened around my body and I tore out of his clutches, dashing into the forest. I could hear him running and calling behind me, but I paid little attention to the man I considered a brother.

Then in a clearing, in the woods I found who I was searching for. My limbs shut down, and every thought in my mind became painfully sharp; I felt as if I knew everything and nothing all at once.

Buck came to a rolling stop beside me, and there, in that clearing in Belgium, my most loved companion shattered.

"_**MEDIC!**_"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

On that fateful day, Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye lost their legs to kraut artillery. It always seemed ironic to me that two of the best soldiers in Easy would be taken out by men who didn't even know they hit someone.

We also lost Buck Compton. Winters wrote him off as having a severe case of trench foot, but I knew it was seeing Bill and Joe laying there in the snow is what did him in.

I returned to my foxhole in a daze, not noticing when others came by to check on me. Lipton sat with me for a while, and tried to talk me out of my stupor but nothing seemed to phase it.

Night had fallen, and I sat on the edge of my half finished foxhole, surrounded by blood, wood and dirt, when my savior came to get me.

He appeared out of the mist like always, a trade mark of his I suppose. He knelt beside me and grasped my shoulder, "Frank, its time to go."

With his help, I stood up, and I followed the demon to his hole. We sat together, side by side; that night everything I thought I knew about people and their character was thrown out the window. Seeing as it wasn't a man, like Winters who saved me, it was Speirs.

**Author note: Aha! I'm sure you're surprised, two chapters in two weeks? Have I lost my mind? No, I am proud to say I have not; although I got very close to having a meltdown multiple times while writing this. Knocking out Bill and Joe just about killed me. Well I hope you enjoyed it, Shoot me a message! –hs18**

B/N: *sniffle/sob* Buck, come baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! We miss you!...

... But at least Speirs is a sexy hunk of devil spawn.

***Speaking of Babe Heffron**


	16. Before the Storm

The tent was filled with the smell of open flesh. Blood, sweat, and the general smell of dirty, grungy human beings made my head spin. I had been in the hospital tent for a quarter of an hour, and the stench still was pounding on my senses. Even worse then the stench was the pounding reality of the future.

"Aw, come on Buck," I drawled as I sat on his bunk and leaned against his legs. "California can't be that bad. Hell, I bet everything is exploding with wine and sea lions and things like that. Think about it, compared to New York that sounds like heaven. The only thing we have there is bad weather and the Yankees." I gave him a cheeky grin which he returned halfheartedly.

I thought a moment before continuing, trying to keep my voice light and happy, "You passed through there, before shipping out, didn't you? Then you've seen what its like." I kept chattering so I wouldn't have to think, "Nah, when this thing is over, you and I are going to California. I'll even wear girly clothes." I whispered the last part which caused him to roll his eyes. I continued my bustling chatter. Then, out of the blue, he threw a curve ball that could have shattered the Pope's Zen.

"You're going to need to be careful when I'm gone."

The smile slipped from my face as I gave him a hard look, "You're not leaving. We need you."

He shook his head and gazed up at the tents ceiling.

"How do you think I'll manage with out you!?" I snapped.

"You've always done fine by yourself." He said slowly.

"You're horrible. Just shut up." I snapped.

_Horrible, hell I knew what horrible really__. The look on his face in that clearing where Bill and Joe were lying side by side in some horrible mock up of a dance. Hell, I even knew what Speirs was talking about. It all made sense. _

_I broke out of my initial shock when I heard his helmet hit the ground.____From my spot beside him, I reached for his hand. I wanted to cry, but I knew I had to keep a strong façade for my Lieutenant. _

_"Joe and Bill are on their way to the hospital. They're going to be okay." I stood before him in the clearing, gazing down upon his broken form. Only moments before, I was helping Gene patch up the wounded. I swallowed back my tears and clenched my bloody fingers, "Let's get out of here, Buck; let's go home." Reaching out, I gave his hand a tug, but he wouldn't move; his eyes were locked on the ground before him. _

_"Please, Buck, let's go." I gave another half hearted pull and my barriers began to fade. I fell to my knees, wincing as my old wound flared. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled his head down into my shoulder. "Please don't do this to me." I whispered. _

The thing was, he did. He shattered before my eyes. The strong, courageous, young man I loved so dearly broke into a million pieces, and no amount of duct tape could have put him back together.

He didn't come back to the foxhole with me. After a time, he left the clearing, making his way back towards the rear. It was his actions that brought around my own demise.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

We stood outside the hospital, Buck, Malarkey and I, staring at each other with pained expressions. Sorrow was written on all of our faces, and little could be done to remove it. Malarkey made the first move of our pitiful tango. He said a few words, then, saluting our broken leader, he trudged off into the woods. I could tell from the tautness of his face and the sound of his voice, he was holding back tears.

That left Buck and I, standing silently, awkwardly, as situations like this seem to make people. I wiggled my fingers inside my pockets and glanced up at him from under the lip of my helmet. The jeep driver was getting impatient and tapped on his steering wheel, but we paid him little attention.

"I'm going to miss you, Buck." I said.

His blue eyes met my own and slowly he opened up his arms. I flung myself at him and crushed my body against his. We stood, inseparable for a time then slowly pulled apart. Tears rolled down my frozen checks and he wiped at them with dirty hands.

Our eyes locked, and we shared more emotion then could ever be displayed in words.

His voice was rough when he said, "I'll see you in California." Then, stepping away, he got into the jeep and drove out of my life.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Without Compton around, I didn't feel the need to stay tied to a certain location, so I drifted far and wide. During the day, when I wasn't watching the line, I found myself wandering like a specter. At nights, I would share a hole with whoever would take me in. Usually it was Luz or Roe, but at times when my wanderings led me closer to Dog Company territory I spent the night with Speirs.

The Lieutenant, beyond conventional belief, wasn't a bad man to share a foxhole with. His silence was unnerving at times, his comments were just as disturbing (if not more so), and he did offer me a cigarette once (I have yet to figure out if he was joking or not).

For the most part, however, our conversation was little more than small talk and the occasional jest. I found, through a great deal of trial and error, that you could get a small smile if you…well, 'stood up to him'. He seemed to get a kick out of my attempts to ease that eerie aura of his.

Not to mention, despite the occasional creepiness, he was steadfast and always made time for me when I was in the area, even if it was just to pass on some disconcerting tidbit. I never noticed it before, but I'd grown accustomed to always having someone there for me. It was nice. Not to mention, he didn't seem to mind my random wanderings, which was always a plus.

I was over in Dog Company, trying to waste time before I had to watch the line in Easy. It was dusk and I was walking besides Speirs as we made our way to where Dog and Easy merged.

As we walked the line, I realized how similar the two companies were, at least, similar in the topic of conversation.

I hate to be the one to spoil the news, but soldiering is a horridly boring affair. 85% of an average day is spent lazing around, either on guard duty or in foxholes, waiting for something to happen. As you can imagine, new topics of discussion or even development on the old ones, is unprogressive. This snail like evolution of conversation led to some very repetitive palaver and even a few lapses in chitchat between parties. It seemed that being on the line for an ungodly amount of time led to some very unusual episodes.

For example, when I last past Skip Muck and Penkala they were debating how many times a day Captain Winters shaved. Unusual, I know. This debate was sparked because Lipton mentioned Winters's habit of being in the process of shaving whenever he visited.

I suppose the line made us all a little crazy… Doc Roe was praying more then I've ever seen him pray, Captain Nixon's been putting a hurt on the bottles of Vat 69, more so than usual, and developed a habit of popping out of his foxhole in a prairie dog like manner. Luz was chain smoking like none other and a habit for impersonating just about anyone he set his sights on. He even tried to impersonate me once; I thought it was funny, although he did need to work on his Brooklyn accent a bit. I doubt I had escaped this operation with my wits intact.

I couldn't quite tell if Ronald Speirs had been affected by Bastogne, or if the war hit him early on, but I will promise you this. The 'On the Line' jitters hit everyone at one point or another.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

When the shells began to fall I was still far away from the line. I could see the flashes of red and orange reflecting off the cold grey clouds. Black smoke swirled into the air and the sky became a mixture of snow and soot. The sounds of the explosions echoed dully through the trees. It surprised me that I couldn't hear the screams of the wounded men. Dully, I wondered if the human voices get lost among the thunder, or if I had finally reached the point where I no longer realized they were in the soundtrack.

Dimly, as I ran, I questioned my sanity. On a scale of one to ten, how smart is running _towards_ an explosion? Mom would be having a conniption. "There you go again!" She would say, "You're sticking your hand into the fire hanging around with those hooligans!" Well, maybe hooligans are a bit off, lunatic might have been a better way to describe my current compadre. God, there _I_ go, maybe I'm the one who's gone insane. I can't even stay on the right topic.

My breath came in pained gasps as I lunged through snow, the cold air burned as it poured down my throat. Speirs yelled for me as I tore away.

"Russo! Stay here!"

Ignoring him, I continued on. The compassion I felt for the men of Easy outweighed my fear of the devil. My love also seemed to surpass conventional rational about running towards ones death.

My fears turned out to be unfounded, when I arrived the shelling was over, the most dangerous things around was the threat of precariously perched threes and smoldering lumber. I jogged around trying to help the men I could find. I wrapped minor wounds in bandages, and sat with those who had more treating moods as we called for a medic.

When I found the brunt of the wounded had been taken care of, I returned to my usual proceedings. But, as always, when you believe all is normal, there is always something hanging around the corner, waiting to throw you off.

George Luz stood outside his foxhole, hands shoved into his pockets, cigarette smoldering down near the filter, he didn't seem to realize how far gone the tobacco was until I placed my arm around his shoulder. He spat out the butt and glowered. His eyes were puffy and red, and his nose was leaking. He turned to face me and sighed. You could almost see the fear escaping his body.

"God Frankie," He muttered. "Thought I lost you… **God I can't take this anymore**!" I jumped slightly, shocked by his sudden outburst.

"Geez, George," I groaned as I rubbed my ringing ear. "What happened?"

"What happened? The Germans happened! We received their two o' clock present like always!" He paced viciously then stopped jabbing an angry finger into my chest. "Two of my best friends got hit, Lipton and I almost met the maker, and then when I go out in search of you, you goddamned bastard, I cant find you! What the hell am I supposed to think?! I'll tell you what! That you got hit, that you're screaming in some clearing where no one can hear you, or that, or that…"

I put my hands against the side of his face and rested my forehead against his. "Listen to me, George," I said in my best commanding officer/no nonsense mother tone, "I-am-still-here. I promise, I am not going anywhere, I am not leaving. I promise, ok. I'm sticking around. I'll be here, with you, to the end." I let him go and stared into his eyes, "Which of the guys got hit?" My heart clenched, my small group of friends had taken a heavy toll as of recent, and I was damn worried about those who were remaining.

"Muck and Penkala got hit. I talked to them right before the shelling started."

I tried to smile and clapped him on the shoulder, "If that's so, they died happy, you're a miracle worker George, in a place like this, a good laugh is worth more then you can imagine."

He seemed to ignore me as he said, "All my friends are going Frank, and their getting picked off like flies. I don't want you to be a fly, Frankie; the Germans have too many swatters."

I stayed with George that night, and finally, after a few failing attempts I got him to laugh.


	17. Plaisir D'amour

Battle was approaching. Its scent was in the air and its face swirled up in the clouds. Its foul breath was unmistakable; it roosted in the hearts of men, and sweltered beneath their skin.

The most notable sign to this conclusion could be gathered by watching the officers walk the frontline, giving the men a sorrow filled glance. They were thinking; who would make it, which man would die?

The soldiers like me, the men who had been at war for what seemed to be an eternity, could tell this gruesome phenomenon was approaching simply by the slight change of attitude that ran through the line, that unanimous tenseness that raged underneath everyone's calm.

With apprehension, I searched for Lipton, as always he was easy to find.

"Hey Lip! Wait up!" I called as I jogged toward him.

The mild mannered sergeant turned my way and smiled in that way of his. "Hey Frankie, What's up?"

"Look Lip," I muttered as I fell into place beside him," I can tell something is goin down and I want ta know whose gonna be in charge of second platoon now that Buck is gone."

He stared at me for a moment then nodded. "It's me. I'm leading."

I smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck, I can't think of anyone better."

We passed Perconte and his toothbrush and I glanced back at him. "So when is it?"

He licked his lips and murmured. "Tomorrow."

I scrunched my eyebrows together. "Tomarrow is the….?"

"Tenth. January Tenth."

When Lipton and I split ways I drifted off in search of Gene, hoping to give him a heads up.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I came around the bend and my eyes landed upon a scene I had played inside my head many times, although usually, I saw it in the first person.

Speirs crouching before his prey, a wicked smile upon his face. The two unfortunate souls were wide eyed, as the unreadable man laid out his riddles, challenging them to do something about it.

Of the two soldiers, Roe seemed to be the least affected. He had his own demons more worrisome than the man before him. Babe however, was different, his eyes wide and unblinking. I could hear the lieutenant's voice as I walked closer.

"Look, it's not our job to make the plans, or even to know what it is we are fighting about." I could only imagine how intense his gaze would be, how frightening the weight of his presence would seem.

I stopped beside him and looked down at the men in the foxhole. Their eyes moved to me, in a slightly pleading manor. The Lieutenant noted the loss of attention and glanced over his shoulder, as he continued to talk.

"What we're supposed to do is live for death. So death can live for us…"

Speirs smiled placidly at me and rose. Dropping his prior conversation like a severed head. Taking a few steps away from us, he stopped and gazed at me from over his shoulder. "Russo, walk with me." He ordered.

Despite the fact I was pleased with his attentions, I blew him off for a second or two. "Give me a moment, sir."

He nodded grudgingly and I crouched before the startled pair.

"Gene." I murmured drawing his attention to me, "Something big is going down tomorrow. You and Spinna better stock up."

I received a firm nod and gave one back. Then moving to Speirs, we walked.

His 'gates of hell' expression was replaced with his calm 'going for a walk' face, which consisted of a softer, easy-going smile and gently lidded eyes. I found it shocking how someone so scary could be so good looking.

As we promenaded through the snowy pines, he took on a questioning look. "Where's Dike?" He asked slowly, an eyebrow rose ever so slightly.

"Don't know sir, HQ probably," I sulked.

"He's not much of a leader." It was a statement, nothing more. I glanced at him trying to decide what kind of response he wanted.

"He's not," I muttered. "Things aren't going to go well tomorrow."

"You know?" He asked.

"I know," I responded.

"Why did you join the paratroopers?" He looked at me seriously, as if he were attempting to categorize me.

I had no real answer to his query. I hadn't joined the paratroopers; I was found by them, and forced by them.

Seeing as I had no real answer, I chose the easy way out, saying the same thing as many before me. "I wanted to fight with the best."

He knew I was lying, I could tell from his eyes. He hated people who lied to him.

In an attempt to direct his mind elsewhere I asked, "Why did you join sir?"

He blinked slowly as he pondered my question. "To fight with men like you, and become one with them in history."

Poetic, I thought, who would have guessed.

"What about Dike?" I almost wanted to laugh because of the look of disdain on his face.

What he said next was a shocker, "How did he even make it though basic?"

I laughed and shrugged. It was a mystery to us all.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Death was around the corner.

For a time I had thought death was a presence that hung upon our shoulders, a dripping hourglass, that when empty, life would end. But I came to understand it was a different matter entirely. Death was a creature of probability and odds. It was dependent on a string of what ifs.

What if I hadn't gone on that mission? What if Jonny hadn't stepped in front of me just as the gun fired?

What if Dike hadn't been leading us that day?

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

My heart was beating hard and fast as we knelt by the tree line, looking across the field at the miserable town of Foy. The houses reminded me of faces. Pale white fronts with black window eyes, and a blush made of soot. Their dark roves were covered with a fresh coating of powder snow, and the farm fields in front of us were pristine except for the deep gouges of dirt, thrown open by short tossed bombs.

Machine guns clattered as we made our way through the fields. Fear turned to euphoria as I ran with my brothers, lunging though the snow like a pack of dogs. A smile lit my face, but it wouldn't last for long.

Sniper fire took its toll early. Men knocked off one by one. A large gun within the town fired, and sporadic shells dug into the earth. Our machineguns roared like a train, their barrels steaming in the cold air. But Dike, oh Dike, he had to go and ruin it, he had to make mistakes, he had to forget Winters's orders, the objective, and let himself be overcome by fear.

At the moment however, we were still running. Crashing through the field, I was happy. Lipton to my right, my brothers to the left, death was crawling up our spines.

It only took half a minute to reach the edge of town, and it took even less to ruin the operation.

The men who had led at the front of the assault spread out and took cover behind, haystacks, sheds, rabbit hutches, and chicken coops. I glanced over my shoulder, and squinted through the white cloud of my breath at the men who were still pouring in from the forest.

Out of that whiteness came a voice. Dikes voice… rising over the clamor, high pitched and afraid, "FALL BACK! HAVE THEM FALL BACK!" He screamed at Lipton and Lt. Shames.

I glanced in his direction, a look of disgust painted on my face. My fingers tightened around the cold shaft of my M-1. My heart was pounding with excitement that had worn off and was once again replaced with apprehension.

From my spot behind span of thick slat fencing, I watched as our attack fell to pieces. Dike's orders to hold up were shouted throughout the ranks, and the men hunkered down in closely scattered platoons across the wide field. Their dark bodies reminded me of chocolate sprinkles on vanilla ice cream.

That order was the beginning of the end for Dike. Mortars fell upon the frozen ranks, and discipline was dropped as they scattered for cover, a group of men joined me behind the fencing, Lipton, Luz, Shames, Dike, fell in behind a haystack located a dozen feet to my left. I watched as the yelling unfolded.

First Dike screamed at Lt. Foley, then at the group in general, and then was turned on by his own men as Lipton, Shames, and Luz, vied for his attention.

**"What are you doing sir?!"**

**"What's the plan?!"**

**"**_**You need to talk to Captain Winters, Sir!" **_I could Luz's agitated demands from across the way.

"What the hell is going on?" One of the men behind me asked.

I ignored him for the most part choosing to focus on the arguing officers. After a moment, Foley disengaged from the group and zipped across the way to his men, who were hunkered down behind a building. I suppose a decision was reached.

Mortar exploded and the call for suppressing fire went out. So fire we did, at unreachable targets, as Foleys men followed Dikes deranged orders.

I slammed in a new clip and looked over my shoulder, to check the situation with Dike. It seemed to have quieted down for the moment, and the group was all staring at a figure approaching from the rear.

A wiry smile crossed my face, and I jokingly imagined an angel choir singing, for I realized Speirs was on his way.

The aforementioned slid to a stop, grabbed Dike by his lapels, gave him a bit of a shake, and then proceeded to order the others around. I don't think I've even seen Luz so happy to take directions. Once things got sorted out the Demon took off.

I surged to my feet and charged after him, joining the men he and Lipton rallied.

**"Come on First platoon!"**

**"Second platoon on your feet!"**

Bullets hissed in the space beside us, and the Germans fired their large cannon. I could hear its large shells arching in the space above us, only to come down and blow out the building to our side.

We swarmed the streets of Foy like angry mice, running with our shoulder against the building. White coated Germans tumbled in the streets before us.

I brought my gun to my shoulder and squeezed the trigger then ducked behind a building, before they could fire back. I could see Lipton, Speirs and Shifty, up ahead. I couldn't hear what they were arguing about over the clank and clatter of the German tanks, and then suddenly Speirs rose.

He _ran_ through the heart of the German held town. The enemy soldiers turned to _watch_ as he sprinted by, wearing looks of disbelief that matched our own. They didn't start shooting until the end, when he vaulted over a stone wall at the end of a street.

"What. The. Hell." I breathed. My mind was a buzz with awe and stomach was tight with worry. A stoke of dread entered my heart when I realized he still had to come back. The logical part of my mind reminded me that everything would turn out fine, but logic was lost in the moment.

As if on cue, he scampered over the wall and galloped through the slush. I don't think the Germans even fired at him this time. They just weren't going to mess with it.

It was the most epically badass thing I've seen. If I wasn't so scared of him, I would have killed him for doing something that stupid.

I darted from my hiding spot to join my commander. As I slid into place beside Shifty I asked, "What's the word, Lip?"

"Waiting for I Company." The first sergeant said, his voice had a faraway quality.

Speirs looked over his shoulder at me and said between gasps, "Glad you could finally join us."

I responded in the acceptable fashion and rolled my eyes at his stupidity.

Lip, Shifty and I had been firing at the German skirmishes throughout this entire repartee. With the help of the soldiers hunkered down behind us, we managed to pick off most of the enemy. The large guns however, were still causing a good bit of grief.

When I Company finally rose from behind the stone wall with bazookas in hand, they let loose upon the artillery bellow, and all of our problems ended, at least, for the moment in time.

After our success in the heart of town, the battle came to a quick and decisive halt. We took many prisoners that morning, over a hundred from what I heard. We lost only a handful of men and gained a new commander. It was a good ending to a bad campaign. The men around me agreed.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Spirits were high as the men of the 101st lazed about the town of Foy. Believe me when I tell you, looking down at a town for over a month and really _seeing _the town, are two completely different things.

Men were singing their hearts out for the people back home, as one of the men from HQ filming their antics. Lines of prisoners shuffled past, and the officers discussed what was next. What I found funny however, was that only a few people thought to go inside.

George Luz and I were in midst of stirring up trouble when a round of shots rang through the town square. We dropped to the wooden flood dread flooding our bodies. The brightly colored hard candy in my mouth suddenly tasted like death.

Giving each other a perturbed look we moved to the window. We peeked through the curtains and watched as Shifty brought his gun to his shoulder and fired. A few seconds passed and a unanimous cheer rang dully though the town.

We turned back to the young girl sitting on the store counter, her hand in the candy jar, looking for the last few pieces. She gave us a cherry colored grin, and tossed the last plastic wrapped piece in our direction.

"Bedankt," She chirped, and then with a seriousness usually not found within a child below the age of 7, she directed us out the door.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I had expected to be shipped off the line for a bit of R&R, but it wasn't to be. Two days after we took Foy, we were sent to clear out Noville and Rorschach shortly after.

The night after the attack on Rorschach, I had one of the best vacations of my life. Billeted in a church, we were sung to in the dim golden light. _Plaisir D'amour_, the Pleasure of Love. The song seemed fitting.

It was a night of discovery as the candles burned low. My eyes wandered over my beloved comrades as I lounged against the hard wooden pews. It was a simple joy to have a real seat. Turning my attention to the girls, and I smiled softly.

I wedged myself closer to Gene and Perconte kicked at my head with his foot, probably telling me to stop being such a gay wad. I gave the small man a look, telling him to mind his own business, if I was cold I could snuggle if I damn well wanted to. Doc Roe was impervious to the whole exchange and stared broodily ahead.

I glanced over at Luz, a cigarette hanging from his lower lip, completely entrapped by the girl's voices. Lipton was beside him, clipboard in hand, scrawling down words as he looked around, his lips moved silently, and I could tell he was mentally checking off names.

I squinted down at the end of the pew and saw Ronald Speirs. Newfound friend and newly appointed Co. of Easy Company. I think it was the first time I saw him with his helmet off, or I suppose I really should say, it was the first time I had seen any of them with their helmets off in about a month. It was slightly unusual, actually being able to see everyone's hair and not just a bowl of metal that cut off everything above their eyebrows.

I had forgotten how Gene's hair had a blue tint in certain lights, or how Lipton's sensible red brown hair looked especially good against a green background, or how unruly my own black brown mess was.

I started to feel like a girl again, when I noticed how fine the lieutenants dark hair looked. The slightly curling locks pushed back with messy grace. I cut my eyes to the front, and told myself to knock it off. I am a soldier; I am not in a New York bar looking for a date. I've kept myself in check so far, by golly I'd best continue in that fashion. If only my companions were unattractive…on second thought, slash that that would suck.

My gaze flicked back to the lieutenant and my eyes locked with his. Then as he smiled at me in a knowing fashion, a feeling of dread creped across my mind. Turning away and I forced my attention back to_ Plaisir D'amour, _The Pleasure of love_. _How very (un)true.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Authors note: Well seeing as I didn't write one of these for the last chapter, I figure I should write a note for this one….So like always, Thank you all so much for the messages. They make my heart jump with glee! Check my profile for CR fan art, done by myself and the lovely Beta-Sam! Also their is a deviantart club linked on my profile for BOB stuff!


	18. Discovering Fey

Trucks. There were miles and miles of trucks. GM, Ford, even Chrysler for god sakes. It never ended. The smell of gasoline drifted for miles and was as potent as pea soup. As much as I appreciated the motor capabilities of our army, I wasn't going to applaud them. My entire body was sore from the constant jostling of the ride, and my head and stomach were participating in synchronized back flips. The smell of petrol had invaded my every pore, and I was very close to becoming sick…

Or I suppose I should say, sicker then I already was. The few short days Easy had spent off line had been hard on Lipton and me. His case of pneumonia had become worse in the warmth, and I been stuck by a bad case of the flu.

"Look, Frankie," Luz's voice rolled above the cacophony of grinding motors. "If you're gonna be sick, puke on Joe, ok?"

Leibgott and I glared at him and I snarled, "Shut up, George."

Luz rolled his eyes and turned to Malarkey, "Hey Malark, did you hear about the dame who took her shoes to the opera?"

Two weeks ago we were still posted in the forest around Rorschach. The chance of German retaliation was low, but Winters believed it was best to keep a sharp eye open.

Despite his worries, the attitude of the men was lax and we spent a lot of time having snowball fights and playing football in the fields. Or, I suppose I should say, I tried to play football, my greatest achievement of those games was running 10 yards before getting crushed under a mass of dirty uniforms. We lived for those games and the promise that relief would soon be there.

The reinforcements arrived on January 19th. Just in time for my twentieth birthday, an event which came, and passed, in silence.

We were sent back to France the next day. For the following week, Easy Company was on the move, being shuffled slowly down a place called Hageunau, which rested on the German-Franco border.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

It was a relief when we finally pulled into the battered town of Hageunau. Through my fever muddled eyes, I decided it was a sad looking place for a vacation. With grey sky, and miserable looking houses, the trees were bare and black, charred looking almost, the snow too, looked worse for wear. It was grey and brown, from car exhaust and bombed up dirt.

The town reflected the mood of my company. Tired, sickly, and despaired. We were fed up with war, burned out from bombings, and we were wasting away.

This general attitude became remarkably clear when George had a short, uninteresting exchange with a paratrooper who walked beside our truck. I didn't really notice much about the man except for the fact he was clean. He made me realize how filthy I was in comparison and I despised him for it.

"Aw, come on guys I haven't been gone that long!" The walker protested.

George glared down at him and said thickly, "Jesus, yes you have."

The man shook his head and walked by us, hoping to have better luck with the next truck. I turned to George and asked, "Who was that?"

"Eh? Oh, Webster, you remember him, don't ya?"

My eyebrows scrunched together. "Not really, no." Then again, I never made much of an effort to get to know the guys outside of Bucks group of friends… The truck jerked to a stop.

Luz stared out over the broken town, "Looks just like home."

My mood lifted immediately when the trucks came to a halt in the middle of the town. I scrambled down and was immensely pleased to have ground beneath my feet, no matter how sloshy it was.

The other men huddled about in small masses, complaining about how sore their asses were or how hopeless the new replacements were going to be. The platoon sergeants conferred with the military police on where their men would be staying.

I shivered slightly despite myself as I came to a stop beside Babe Heffron. I don't even know why my body trembled in the cold anymore; one would think I would be use to it by now. To make it even worse, it wasn't even that cold in Hageunau. I sighed and thought darkly, 'Maybe my bodies decided it's had enough. I can picture it now, moments in the future I would be in the midst of a death throe on the flooded ground.'

Malarkey came to me after a few moments and dragged me out of my depressing visions with such speed practicality had to be involved, "I need you to take Webster down to HQ. I know you have something for Lipton, so take care of your business while you there. When you're done, find house number 13 on Découvrir Street."

My eyebrows scrunched together when I caught a good look at the sergeant. He was grungy like the rest of us, but his eyes showed he was infected with a sickness we all struggled to avoid. Battle fatigue, shell shock, soldiers heart, post-traumatic stress disorder; what ever you wish to call it. I could see its fire behind his glossy eyes.

I bit my tongue and nodded. It wouldn't do any good to bring up his condition now. I could only hope being off the line would be a good enough medicine to sort him out. I turned away and caught Webster's eye.

"Alright, Web, come on," I called as I tromped through a load of slush. He walked along side me and his eyes scoured up and down my frame.

"You're Frank Russo, right?"

"Yeah that's right," I glanced at him. If I wasn't so sick I would have better appreciated how god dammed pretty he was, "I heard you've been off in the hospital."

His words went right over my head as we turned down the street. My mind switched focus like a TV changing channels. I could compare David Webster to an infomercial on channel 5, while my attention was more focused on _House M.D._ playing on channel 6.

I thought about Lipton and the box of hot chocolate in my bag. I had found the mix at the last town and couldn't help but buy it. My mom swore a dose of hot chocolate could cure the nastiest cold, and I was hoping she would be right.

When we finally stumbled upon HQ, I was in a pretty dismal mood; nostalgia was creeping in no matter how hard I pushed it away.

My boots left a track of snow as I wandered over to Lipton who was sprawled out on a couch, a blanket tucked around him.

"Hey Sarge, look what I got," I shook the tin in front of his face and he smiled slightly.

"Stop torturing the poor guy, Frankie," George grinned from where he stood behind the couch.

"Shut up George, go do something useful." He stuck his tongue out and went to boil some water.

Lipton noticed Web hanging in the doorway and waved him in. "What do you need, Webster?"

"Sergeant Malarkey said to find out what platoon you wanted me in."

"Take a seat; we'll get you sorted out."

George returned with three coffee cups filled with water and put them down in front of me, then he handed me a spoon and looked at me expectantly. I gave him a look and started spooning in the chocolate powder. "Don't know how it will taste..." I drifted off knowing they wouldn't really care.

The two men shrugged, I passed them their cups, and took a sip from my own. It wasn't half bad.

My eyes flicked up to Webster then to the doorway. A tall gawky looking man stood watching our exchange.

"Is this the company CP for Easy?" He asked in a rather pompous tone. "I'm Lt. Jones; I'm looking for Captain Speirs."

"He's on his way," Lipton waved his paper filled hand. "Take a seat."

He did as told and tried to stick up a conversation with Webster, but even he wasn't going to have anything to do with this man.

A few minutes later Speirs walked in. The newbie sprung to his feet and the rest of us nodded in greeting. Speirs ignored both actions and stalked right up to Lipton, "For Christ sakes, there are beds in back, go to sleep."

He charged about for a moment, looked about the room placing the faces and the reason they would be here. He focused to me the odd bird out, "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on Lipton, Sir."

He shook his head and glanced around the room, "Yeah, ok, do something useful and take…"

Winters walked through the door with Nixon by his side. The tall red head had barely cleared the threshold when he started talking, eyes locked on Speirs.

"Listen up; regiment wants a patrol for prisoners."

The Lieutenant perked up immediately and put his game face on. It was almost scary how fast his moods changed.

"This came straight from the top, so it's not my idea," Nix muttered, obviously wanting to get the blame off himself.

Winters shot him a look and continued, "We're going to have to cross the river to get to them, there's a three story building on the enemy side, up the embankment, we know it's occupied, you can have fifteen men, think hard on whom you want to lead the patrol."

Speirs nodded, "When?"

"Tonight, 0100."

I got tired of this talk so gathered the cups and dropped them off in the kitchen. By the time I returned, the officers had finished working out the details, but it would seem that I would not escape the subject.

Speirs looked up when I entered the room and waved me over to where he and Lipton were talking. He stared at me as I approached with his intense businesslike eyes, "You tell Heffron, Ramirez, and McClung their going, take Lt. Jones and Webster with you. You're going to go as…" He paused for a moment, taking in my condition. "After that you go see Doc Roe, see if you can get some antibiotics and bring back sleeping pills for Lipton."

"Right, sir," I saluted and slogged out the door.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I was in a bad mood when we arrived at the house. The two men's jumpiness was embarrassing and I was fed up with their silliness. The slightest boom and they would be cowering in the dirt. I scoffed at them each time, explaining that the bombs weren't going to land near us, and they didn't, until we reached Découvrir Street. After exchanging a few words with some noncoms from 1st platoon, who had scavenged a bag of potatoes even Speirs would be proud of, the bombs arrived.

Three of them fell in close succession as we scrambled to the stoop of house 13 and tossed our bags over. Then we vaulted up ourselves and entered the relative safety of the house.

"Home sweet home," I announced to the empty main room. Jones tramped up the stairs most likely wanting to be the official messenger. I shook my head and exchanged a look with Web before ascending the stairs myself.

I entered the miserable looking room with its brown wallpaper and creaking green bunks. The oppressive scent and fog of cigarette smoke hit me like a wall. I shuffled over to the remaining bed and prayed it wouldn't smell too much like smoke. Webster dropped his stuff on the top bunk so I got stuck with the bottom. I sat down with a sigh and said, "If you snore I'll kick you."

I glanced into the conjoining room and saw Malark and the Lt. chatting. As I expected the redheaded Irishman's face was serious.

Leibgott pranced by followed by his posse interrupting my view of the officers. He stopped before Webster and looked at him through narrowed eyes, "What do ya know about this patrol, Web?"

"Nothing much. Ask Frank." He jerked his head over to me, but Leibgott kept at him.

"Come on Webster, what is it, a prisoner snatch? Who do they want?"

Poor David Webster, falling to peer pressure, the kid never had a chance. "Captain Speirs is to pick fifteen men; Jones wants to be one of them."

"I say we let him go," Leibgott responded.

Ramirez agreed, "I say we get 14 replacements to help him out."

When Webster fell silent they continued heckling him. He glanced at me for help but I just shook my head. I was not going to jump into that, seeing as my posse became all but extinct in the last month. Although if push came to shove, I think I could get a bit of help from Babe, for old time's sake.

"So who's going?"

Poor Webster squirmed, "There are three men in this room that they think should be on this patrol."

I shook my head as the men resorted to the best display playground style backstabbing I've seen in years. Leibgott promised in that condescending way of his that they wouldn't let on that Webster told them. A kindergartener could spot this lie a mile away.

After a moments pause he looked at Babe, "You, McClung, and Ramirez."

Malarkey burst in just as the men ended their grumbling. "Alright, got some bad news." He called. "There's a patrol set for tonight…"

"Yeah we know," Ramirez scoffed.

"Webster told us," Babe grumbled.

The perpetrator gave them a wounded look, and I was swept up in a sneezing attack. I lay back miserably when it passed. Speirs was right; I really should go see Roe.

Malark gave me a look and shook his head. "Well now that Russo has shared his germs with us we can all…"

The phone rang and he held the receiver to his ear for a moment or two, "Supplies finally came in," he told us as he put the receiver down and cranked the phone, "winter shoe packs, soap so Captain Winters can shave." That bit of news received a chuckle, "Oh and they've got showers for us."

It was then a high pitched scream shattered the mood, the shell was one of those huge thousand pound bastards that screamed like a freight train as it came down. In a rush we charged downstairs, tripping over each other as we ducked for cover. Amidst a wave of dust I found myself under the kitchen table.

When the last of the shells hit, and the dust rained down upon our heads, we broke out into laugher. I don't know why we were laughing. Shock? Or maybe the shelling reminded us of Bastogne, and we needed that laughter to calm our twisted nerves.

Webster and Jones didn't understand anymore than we did and they looked at us as if we lost our minds.

When the chuckles finally ended, or I suppose I should say, when we finally had our nerves under control, the platoon left for the showers, and I split in search for Gene. Along with antibiotics, I hoped he knew a place I could shower in private.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I was feeling rather horrid when I walked into the hospital and so, for the first time in my life, I seemed to be in the right place. The red brick building was warm, its windows frosty from the clash of cold and heat, inside it smelled like pine nettle fires and old blood. I bile rise in my throat as a wave of Bastogne crashed over me. I choked back the emotions and stumbled farther inside, my eyes flicking over the room.

"Gene," I called, my throat so raw that my voice actually sounding masculine.

He looked up from where he was sorting supplies and bemused expression crossed his face, "You sound like a cat having a hairball." He grinned playfully but I couldn't help but feel miffed. He seemed to be in a good mood.

"Shut up, Gene," I grumbled, "My head may be pounding but I _know_ when I've been insulted."

He rolled his eyes, turned away and bid me follow with a wave of his hand. We walked out of the main room, away from prying eyes and stood in the clean yet cluttered kitchen. Like all of the buildings our company employed, the hospital had once been a house.

"What's the problem?" Hmm, unusual, he seemed in a rather brisk mood today. And happy, you can't ignore the happy.

"I need some medicine, I feel like shit," I grumbled, "The captain's orders though, I wouldn't have come otherwise, cause I know you're too busy for petty insignificants like me." I scolded him with a glance. I couldn't help but be mad at him for ignoring me these past few weeks. "Speirs also says to pick up some sleeping pills for Lipton. You know how he is; the pneumonia isn't helping his insomnia at all."

Gene grinned and shook his head, laughing at me with his chocolate eyes. "You sure you aren't gonna use those personally?"

I made a face, my own comment coming back to bite me, "I'm not like that Gene, I know what addiction does to you."

He shook his head, letting my bad mood roll of him like water on waxed paper. "That ain't all, is it?"

I shook my head and turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run down my hands into the sink, "I need a shower."

We stared at each other for a moment. I could see the cogs turning in his head.

"Are you going on patrol tonight?"

I shook my head. "I'm on covering fire."

"Why don't you just sneak off during the patrol tonight, there's hot water running at headquarters, Lipton will probably be the only one there, and if he takes those sleeping pills, he won't notice you."

I shook my head doubtfully," Think of how many times people try stuff like this in the movies, they always get caught, knowing my luck I will too. Think about it, if that happens I might as well have showered with the men."

He shook his head after a moment or two, hiding a smile as he looked at me, "I'll write you up for bronchitis, with your flu it won't be much of a stretch. I'll tell them you shouldn't be out tonight cause the cold will make it worse. You'll have to get into HQ by yourself, and think of a cover story if Lipton isn't the only one there."

I smiled at him, feeling better with the promise of a shower. I popped up on my tiptoes and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. "You're the best, Gene. What would I do without you?"

He shook his head, a bit pinker in the face then usual. "You'd be running around looking like you got lost in the bayou."

I left the hospital in a much better mood, a cold pill in my system, a pair of narcotics in my pocket, and my ticket to showering freedom in my hand.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

When I arrived at Company HQ, the supply headquarters was just getting set up. George popped up from behind the counter and smiled, "Oh, it's just you."

"Who were you expecting?" I shot back, "The Michelin tire man?"

"Who?"

"What?"

He stared at me, a box of supplies in his hand. "You're insane."

I shrugged and grinned, "You just figured that out?"

He rolled his eyes and ripped open the lid. D Rations. My stomach rolled in disgust.

"When are they ever going to get us good food?"

"When frogs walk on two legs." He muttered as he put the box down and picked up another. He ripped the lid open and I swore I saw angels playing in the outfield. It was filled with Baby Ruths.

We looked at each other and a smile slid over his face. He tossed a bar to me, and took one himself, ripping open the thick paper covering. "Happy return to civilization, Russo."

Johnny Martin and Cobb walked in just as George started laying out the chocolate bars. I watched their exchange from my bar stool laughing as George continuously beat them away.

"You hear me Johnny, your breakin' my heart." Luz grumbled as he tossed the chocolate into a pile.

"Come one George its just one Hershey bar! You gave Russo a Baby Ruth!" Cobb protested.

"Yeah, but I didn't give him a load of shit as payment," I retorted.

Allen Vest, the man in charge of the company store walked in, "Just got a report of movement, Lipton wants you to lay a few bazooka rounds into a building across the river," he said to Luz.

The two of them shared a look and shook their heads. A moment later, the rest of second platoon walked in. Men shouted for the chocolate and begged Luz to relent. "Jesus, there's not enough!"

"Hey big mouth, give the kid a Hershey bar!" A voice charged the conversation from the side. Our heads turned and a smile lit the group.

"Hey Perconte!" We called.

He small man grinned from the doorway. "Love what you did with the place."

"How's your ass feelin', Perco?" I asked. He had been shot during the attack on Foy, and had been in the hospital since.

"Fine, as long as I don't have to sit."

George threw him a Hershey and a large groan came from the congregation around us.

"Why are you giving him stuff!"

"He got shot in the ass, now if you excuse me, I gotta go blow up a building. Russo, you're coming with me."

I slid off my chair and walked out the door.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

When Luz and I reached the river I got a look at the German encampment for the first time. It was at least 300 yards away, a large portion of that space was taken up by deep cold water. Squinting to get a better look at the houses, I found that they were similar in style, color, and build to the homes on our side; it was like walking into a Rod Rock community, everything looked the same.

Lipton and Speirs walked towards us, both wearing worn looks.

"Come on George, Let's go blow up this building," Lipton said as he passed a bazooka to the other man.

Speirs came to a stop beside me and we watched as the men set out their ammunition.

"Did you go visit your medic friend?" Speirs asked eyes averted from my form.

"Yeah he gave me this." I dug around in my pocket for the little form Gene had filled out. "He says I got bronchitis and he doesn't want me out tonight."

He pulled the paper from between my fingers, looked it over and nodded, "Then you won't be. I hereby order you to stay inside." He started to smile near the end, finding it funny for some reason.

"I also got those pills for Lip, it would probably be best if you gave them to him. Doc says to take them right before you go to sleep, so…" I shrugged

He took the pills and pocketed them, "I'll make sure it gets done."

Smoke spewed from the back of the bazooka as the two men began their barrage on the German house.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The rest of the afternoon past in relative silence, after returning to Découvrir Street I found myself alone. The whole platoon was taking part of the patrol, and for once I seemed to be left out. Ever since D-day I had followed the men into combat, or when I couldn't be in the middle of it, I was watching it unfold before me, like a fast paced game of chess.

I met with the men at dinner and caught some crap for not going with them. I made my excuses with a shrug and a smile and for the most part they let it go. However bitter they might be, they respected me because I had been there for them in the past.

As dinner wound down, the moods of the men sunk with it. Each of them sinking into what was to come, reviewing the plans of attack in their head, how they would go about it. More then a few, I am sure, worried about how they would function if one of them got hit.

At 10:30 we were back at Découvrir, a few of the men were playing cards, those who weren't listened to their exclamations, and tried to entertain themselves.

An hour and a half later, I was alone, they men leaving for a house on by the river, where they would prepare and review the plan once more. I glanced at the clock, and waited for it to strike one. I don't believe waiting for a shower has ever been so stressful.

At the first chime of the bells I was at my feet and out the door. Cold air grated against my skin, and wetness clawed up my boots. I tried to walk quietly through the flooded streets, but each step sent waves through the puddles of snow melt. No lights came from the windows of the houses, and the town breathed in anticipation.

My feet fell upon the concrete steps of company HQ, and I wiggled the doorknob. I could feel the pulse in my neck, and the blood rushing in my ears. The door swung open, blackness inside. I crept forward, trying to hear over the ocean in my head. Nothing. I closed the door and carefully moved forward, I went up the stairs half bent over with my arms out in front of me just in case I fell. I didn't trust myself to navigate that slim staircase on two feet in the pitch black. _._

My hand touched the top step and I slunk into the hallway, my hand remaining on the wall.

My fingers touched the molding around a doorway and I paused. Listening closely, I could hear struggling breath. Lipton.

Removing my hand I walked a few more steps before putting it back against the wall. Down the hall way I proceeded, until I came upon a door, located at the end. My hand brushed the doorknob and I pulled it open and started into the dark abyss.

I could tell by the smell it was a bathroom. The men's shaving crème scented the room. I ducked inside, closed the door, and searched for the light switch. I was blinded by the sudden flash of visibility. The shockingly white room, it reminded me of Angelo.

As soon as my eyes cleared I started pulling off clothing, and completely naked for the first time in what seemed to be years, I switched on the water.

I am sure you can imagine what followed. If you cant here is a point in the right direction. Soap, hot water, and shampoo. When I stepped out a towel about my waist I felt like a completely new person. I smiled at the foggy mirror and marveled at myself. 'Who is that deliciously clean person in the mirror! You are!' I ran my fingers through my hair and winked, feeling silly for talking to myself like I was a dog.

I could hear voices.

I dropped the towel and scrambled into my underwear and bra and pants. Footsteps were approaching. I grabbed for my shirt, my heart going faster then a racecar, the doorknob turned and the door was pushed open.

Green eyes met black. My shirt was halfway up my arms, waiting to be pulled over my head.

"Fuck," He said and closed the door.

A shaky breath escaped me and I sunk to the floor. The cloth of my green shirt riding up to my elbows.

The door opened second and a half later, he came inside and closed the door. The small room got even smaller.

He stared down at me, and eyebrow rose, "Really?"

"Uh, yeah, really." I pulled the shirt over my head. It's not like I could lie anymore.

"I knew it," he smirked to himself. He offered me a hand, taking this so much better then I was.

"_What the hell is your problem?" _I hissed. "_Shouldn't you be freaking out? Shouldn't you be screaming bloody murder, and calling for Winters to come and deal with this bloody twat that's been impersonating a soldier?!" _I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "_**What the hell is your problem, Speirs!?**_"

He just shrugged nonchalant as ever, then pulled my hands off him, "It just made sense."

Just made _sense_…I was worried because he was right, he had known. I should have put two and two together, and realized why he stared at me as I walked by. He was so good at hiding it though; the person talking to him would just think he was staring off into space, working things out in his own mind as he listened to their reports. I should have known differently.

But these looks, these knowing looks intensified after the night in the chapel. They grew in leaps after Roe convinced him to play football with us. Speirs and I on opposing sides, the ball throw in a lateral my way, Bull steam rolling the men in front of me didn't see the Captain come up from behind, he lunged arms wrapping around my chest as we crashed to the ground. I think it was then he knew, or at least when his suspicions became more plausible. This moment now, this discovery must have been the icing on the cake. It really would make sense now.

He nodded and passed me my jacket, "Private."

I pulled it on, "Captain."

"You should go before your platoon gets back to the house. You do have _Bronchitis_ after all."

"Right, sir." We walked into the dark hallway, and I could hear Winters and Nixon talking behind a closed door. "Thank you," I turned and walked away.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I did not make it back to Découvrir Street, before my platoon. I walked into the house, my hair frozen in wet frosty clumps and was greeted by an assortment of grunts.

"Where have you been?" Webster asked.

"Around," I started to ascend the stairs.

"Did you find a whorehouse?" Leibgott asked, eyeing me with interest.

I turned and grinned, "The world may never know." I proceeded upstairs and fell asleep, my mind turning to dreams after a raging night.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_My eyes were greeted by a snowstorm of white. The walls, the chairs, the floor and door, all of it was washed in the color without pigment. _

_I stood out like a bruise in my grungy battle fatigues and I called out for Angelo; knowing he would be near. _

_"Angelo, Angelo come out and play!" _

"_Fey, oh Fey, stay away. I don't want to play." He called in return as he entered the room. _

_I grinned bitterly at him. "Mind telling me the rules for today's game? I don't feel like getting kicked out early because I get the red card."_

_"It's open." He said with a smile. "No hold barred, remember?" _

_I shook my head. "With you, what can I trust? It seems as if every other word that comes out of your mouth is a complete lie." _

_He was pleased with himself, "Do you feel stupid for falling for it?" _

_"I was stupid a person. I grew up since then, I'm not going to fall for your lies again." _

_"It's only been two years. You can't have grown too much." _

_I laughed. "What would you know? You've been safe here, while I've been at war." _

_We glared at each other for a time, "How many lies have you told me since then?" _

_"You shouldn't care about the number," He advised," You should thank me instead." _

_"For ruining my life?" _

_"No, for protecting it."_

_We started each other into the dirt. He looked away and I laughed. "You think you protected me? What the hell are you on? You took me from my home, and flung me into the middle of _World War Two_. You think that's safe? You call _that_ protection?"_

_He stared at me, his blue eyes biting into my own. "No. I protected you from the organization. Nazi's are bunnies compared to them." _

_My hands suddenly got cold. Antoine had told me something similar. Hearing it from both of them drove the issue closer to my heart. "What do they want with me and Antoine?" My tightened painfully. "Is he ok?" _

_"Antoine? OH he's fine. He never solidified, so he's still on the organizations green list. They never even realized he was here. You on the other hand…" He shrugged. "They don't like you at all. Your solid, you're screwing with their system." _

_I grabbed his collar and shook him. "But _you_ made me solid. _You're the one who screwed up my life_!" _

_My mind reeled and visions flashed before my eyes. Our meeting outside Carentan, the last meeting of ours… I was in Aldbourne at the time, leaving the bar, when I was assaulted by two men. They would have killed me if it weren't for Gene. They tried to kill me, because of Angelo. _

_"You're the reason, those two men attacked me." I snarled. "__**It's your freaking fault that I almost died! That I am even here!" **_

_"No," He shook his head, a wiry smile clawing its way onto his face. "Its not me who made you come. It was your choice. You were the one who made the decision to come here. I just provided the transportation. You made the decision to return to the past because you can't change history. History states at you were in the war, your actions these past few years have confirmed that. So if I hadn't lied when I said, you would have a choice between staying and leaving. You would have chosen to stay." _

_"You're insane." I growled breaking away from him. "You're an absolute mad man."_

_"No," The destructive smile appeared on his face. "I'm not mad, I just make things happen." _

_I backed away from him, shaky; I stumbled over my own feet. "Take me home Angelo. I want to go back. Let me talk to this Organization, they have to let me go back!"_

_He shook his head. "Your not part of the Organizations agenda, your part of mine and I told you Fey, you're not allowed to go back. That's not a lie. Do you want to know why it's not a lie?" He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a photograph, he tossed it my way and I watched it flutter to the ground, stopping by my feet. I knelt down and picked it up. I flipped it over to the visual side. My eyebrows crushed together. _

_There were three people in the picture, Speirs, Nixon and myself. The man from Jersey was leaning against a German officer's car, I sitting on the roof, leaning forward to talk to the swarthy officer. Speirs was leaning against the hood of the car, eyeing the both of us with interest, a small smile on his face. I knew for a fact that this hadn't happened yet, I have no recollection of the photograph, and to make the information hit harder, the date on the photograph was July, 15 1945. _

_"How did you get this?" I stared at him wide eyed. _

_Angelo shrugged. "It was in the Easy Company book. The caption had the two officers' labeled, but had you down as unknown."_

_"Then how did you know it was me? It could be some other poor fool. __**Why does it have to be me**__!?" _

_Angelo shrugged. "I found that picture in the Easy Co book, but I also had a personal copy. I got it from my great-grandfather, a Mr. Antoine Russo."_

_I backed against a wall a broke into a cold sweat. "No, no! Angelo tell me you're lying, just this once Angelo, Tell me you're lying!" _

_He cocked his head and a smiled softly. "That's just it, I'm not." _

* * *

Well now, What do you have to say to THAT!

In other news... PaperHeart382 you are one smart cookie!

As always to thank you for your reveiws, expessially PaperHeart382,Abisian, and iHedge, for leaving such long ones. I do love meself some long reveiws. But seriously THANKYOU ALL SOOO MUCH, and now that you have been properly thanked, i will proceed to ask you for more. Pretty snazzy move huh?

Well I hoped you enjoyed all 16 pages of this chapter, which i beleive makes it the longest of this fic, as of right now...

Tata loves, untill we meet again


	19. Helter Skelter

The sun streamed in though the dust coated windows panes and bathed the conjoining rooms in dim light. It was a beautiful morning to sleep in, but like all good things it wouldn't last for long.

Two men crashed to the floor, snarling. I could hear the dull sound of flesh on flesh as they fought over whatever it was they were arguing about.

Pulling the blankets over my head, I groaned. Please, go back to sleep! For once just shut up! Metal clanged as a helmet fell upon the floor, and a wave of pain shot through my head. Bare feet scuffled across the floorboards, and I let out a growl.

"**Shut up NOW!**" I bellowed into my pillow.

The room went silent for a moment as the fighters froze. The other men looked down at the floor where Babe and Rameirez were frozen, fists posed inches from each others faces, then at me. The weight of whatever happened last night hung like the humidity of a Georgia summer.

Leibgott was the first to break the standoff. He pounced on my bed and assaulted me with tickles. "Hey, Frankie, What's got you in such a bad mood?" His knee was in the middle of my back and I thrashed about under him, "Where'd ya go last night? Did you find a whore house? You better tell us Frankie, you owe us."

I attempted to elbow him but it was a bit difficult seeing as I was lying on my stomach, covered in blankets, and was being crushed by an avenging Jew.

"Get off me!" I growled, thrashing like a hooked fish.

We crashed to the floor, blankets separating us as we sparred. We scuffled evenly for a moment then Leibgott pinned me without a second thought. My cheek was pressed against the floor and my arm was wrenched behind my back. Leibgott grinned around triumphantly, only to be met by Webster's blank stare.

"Good Job, Leib," Web's monotone floated down from the top bunk. "You bested a kid with a horrible sickness. They should give you a medal."

I struggled beneath him trying to escape the blanket that ensnared my legs. Leibgott rolled off me and pulled me to my feet.

"Sorry, Frank," he slapped me on the shoulder, "I forgot."

I muttered something nasty in return. Not paying much attention to what I actually said, I grabbed the blankets, dumped them onto my bed, and stalked out of the room.

As I descended the stairs I heard the indignant Perconte say, "Good job Joe, who's going to make us breakfast now?"

If you haven't figured it out, I am in a horrid mood. The coupling of last nights adventure with Speirs and Angelo really put me down in the dumps. A meeting with the blond haired bastard always turned out bad, but last nights roll call had to be the low point of all bad interviews. Really now, after all this time, the tormenter of my existence turned out to be my _great-great grandnephew?_ If that's not the most b-rated horror movie thing I've ever heard then I don't know what is.

Not to mention, Speirs is in on my secret and who _knows_ what he's going to do.

I swept across the main room, ignoring Malarkeys queries and stepped out into the frozen street. Then, walking down Découvrir Street, I made my way towards the river.

I always had a thing for water. Lakes, rivers, oceans, any kind of large water mass and I was there. I don't like water because I think it's peaceful. We all know its not. I respected the serene surface, because I know somewhere, there is a storm brewing. A storm that would send waves crashing against the shoreline, waves so powerful, they would crush cars.

After seeing the news coverage of Katrina, I would shiver in anticipation when ever I heard the warnings bleep across Good Morning America. That may sound more morbid then I anticipated.

The cold grey water of the Rhine spread before me and I tried to picture the events that took place earlier that morning. I could still see the flattened grass from where the men laid in wait. There were spent shell cartages lying around, a tell tale sign of firing machine guns. The grey water was smooth as a mirror.

A chipped coffee cup was placed before me and a man leaned against the high brick wall. "Drink it. You look like death itself."

I wrapped my fingers around the warm cylinder and raised it to my lips. The coffee was lukewarm and weak, but it was a nice reminder that civilization still existed.

"You don't actually have bronchitis do you?" The dark haired Captain tilted his head in my direction.

I shook my head and grinned slightly. "No. I don't."

"But you are sick?"

"As a dog."

"Good." Speirs stretched a bit as he stared out over the river. "I was worried you were becoming too good of an actor."

I frowned slightly, "I'm a good actor! You'd still be questioning yourself if I were a man or a woman if you didn't see me out of costume."

That reminded me. Ronald Speirs was the catch in the equation. Gene, Buck, and Nixon were willing keeping my secret but would he?

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

His eyes were bright and focused, and a half smile graced his face. I was astounded that a man who had so little sleep could look so awake. Then again, I wouldn't put it past him to pull and all nighter and look like he just came back from a week at the spa.

"You mean the girl thing? Don't worry about it." For once one of my tormentors was straight with me. It was a good feeling, but I couldn't let it lie.

"Don't worry about it? Speirs there's a lot to worry about! You think the higher ups are going to just accept that I'm a woman and have been fighting with you guys since D-Day! That's not going to fly! You tell me you're not going to do anything. That you're just going to pretend that I'm a man. It may work for you, but if something slips then I'm fucked."

He looked at me with all seriousness and said, "Don't worry."

We stared at each other for the next few moments until his eyes finally softened, "I'll take care of you, ok?"

I turned away from him and looked at my cold coffee. I trusted him to make it okay.

"Your name's not actually Frankie, is it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No," I shook my head, "its Fey."

He gave me that half smile of his, "Always knew you were too much of a pretty boy to be a Frankie." He clapped me on the shoulder and drifted off.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I watched his retreating form with a mixture of shock and joy. Mom always said men were confusing beings; they'd make a mess of the home, steal the remote, and eat the last of the Oreos but sometimes they'd bring home flowers and dote upon you out of the blue.

I had never expected that to happen while I was out at war. But today for some odd reason it did. The metaphorical flower giving started with Speirs, and ended at Nixon.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

It felt good to be called pretty, even if it was in a roundabout, slightly insulting manner. I turned away and walked down the icy streets smiling to myself.

The day was beginning to look better. The Germans weren't bombing us; Speirs was on my side and possibly found me attractive, I had a shower last night, and my cold was clearing up. I was rather pleased.

I turned the corner and followed my nose to the mess tent. Men streamed in and out so I knew the kitchen was still cooking. I jumped in line being a group of army grunts and smiled myself to the front.

Today's entree was a ham and bean gravy like substance with dry biscuits. Definitely not my favorite meal, but it was hot, and the orange juice might actually have been made from real oranges.

I found an empty spot, and tucked in. Gene joined me a few moments later, "How'd it go last night?" He asked in a confidential tone.

I tried to swallow a mouthful of dry biscuit, "Speirs found me."

He swore under his breath, and leaned closer, "What happened?"

"He said he knew already and is acting pretty good about it. I talked to him this morning. He said he wouldn't tell anyone. I think we can trust him." I shrugged, "If not, I'll work it out then."

He nodded and mopped up some of the gravy with his biscuit, "If you're sure."

I rolled my eyes and took on an arrogant tone, "Well of course I'm sure!" I smiled at him and he grinned back. I gasped playfully. "The man smiles! Tell me, dear friend, what has you in such a pleasant mood?"

"It's nothin'."

"Oh come on, Gene," I nudged him with my elbow. "You were happy yesterday to and you're not the kind of guy to be happy over nothing. So spill."

"Its ma business Fey, leave me be." He made a face at his coffee cup.

I flung an arm around his shoulder, "So it's a girl then!" I teased, "And here I was thinking I was special."

He blushed and stuck the rest of his food in his mouth to hide his embarrassment.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye as I took a sip of my orange juice, "Now I'll forgive you for cheatin' on me, if you let me meet this girl?"

He stood up and grabbed his plates and started walking off. I shot up and followed him. "Oh come on, Gene!" I called, "That's hardly fair!"

"Who eva said anythin' about bein' fair? I ain't gonna let you see this girl, cause she'd be all ova you in five seconds. I seen those girl looking at you back in Aldbourne, don't know what it is, but they find you deadly attractive." He stared at me with humor in his chocolate eyes, "So let me have ma happiness while were in this town. When were back on the line, I'm yours."

I pressed my lips together pretending to consider his offer. "Alright, Gene," I smiled widely. "You got yourself a deal but I'll warn you now. I'm extremely clingy."

He laughed and started to walk away. "Frankie, you and clingy shouldn't even go in the same sentence."

I was downright peachy when I walked back down Découvrir Street. I pranced up the steps of house 13 and entered the main room. Most of the squad was in the room and they looked up as I entered.

"Are you done PMSing Frankie?" Leibgott asked.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that?"

We grinned at each other and Webster shook his head. Lt Jones sat in the corner armchair reading a book, and Malarkey waved me over to where he, Leibgott, Webster, and Babe were playing cards.

"Grab a chair, Russo." The red head said, as he dealt me in. I sighed as I sat down.

"Come on guys, this is hardly fair. I suck at poker."

"Or any card game for that matter," Babe piped up. I glared at him, but he just smiled.

"Shut up Babe, I beat you in blackjack two weeks ago," I shot back and picked up my cards.

We were betting with cigarettes so I dug around my pockets for the carton I kept on me just in case. I threw down two sticks to check Malarkey who sat across from me and waited.

"So, uhh," I started, "What happened last night?"

"Well," Webster sighed, "Jackson got hit. He's in the hospital, He not…going to look the same."

My spirits fell. Eugene Jackson had always been a sweet guy; he had always been willing to partner up with me during partner card games even though I was one of the worst players in the company.

"The good news is…" Malarkey said, as he showed his cards and held his hand out for his winnings. "We don't have to go again tonight. Sink wanted a second attempt tonight but Winters told us to ignore the orders."

"Its too late in the war to risk lives for stupid missions," Webster commented.

"Yeah," My mind turned to Joe Toye, Bill Guarnere, and Buck Compton. "It's too late."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

When we moved off line the next day, we all felt a little bit lighter. There was a sense that we would all make it through the war okay, that the German blitzkrieg had finally screeched to a halt and had begun its recession backwards. The last day at Hageunau was a good day for the officers. Lipton was promoted to Lieutenant. Jones became a 1st Lt. and was shipped off to work at regiment, a place we all agreed he would do well at. To top it all off, Winters became a major.

From my spot in the truck, I could see the oak leaves shining on his collar. I smiled quietly at the jeep beside us and Nixon nodded in my direction.

The gift I had received from him had been one of my favorites.

_He came up to me yesterday afternoon and as he dug around in his pocket he said. "The mail man gave this to me. Said he didn't know who it was for. I told him I'd take care of it." He pulled a letter out of his pocket and read off the address. _

_"To Miss Fey Russo, Easy Company 101__st__ airborne, 506 infantry." He shook his head and stared at me with laughing eyes. "I think your sister's boyfriend got a bit confused. I'm sure Fey isn't part of the 101__st__." He squeezed my shoulder and walked off._

_I opened the letter right then and there. _

_"That's hardly fair to your sister," Lt. Jones protested._

_I pulled out the folded paper and said, "Well, I need to know who her boyfriend is so I can beat him up." _

_I stared at the signature at the bottom of the page and smiled. It was Buck. _

I leaned against the railing of the truck and smiled as I remembered my Lieutenants parting words, "I'll see you in California."

* * *

**Author's note- I can't actually think of anything relatively witty to say here….Ah well. I'll just say the usual, hope you don't mind. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I sure did. Once again, thank you so much for the Messages, and I hope to see more!**


	20. Bullet Dancing

_Struzelberg Germany,- March 11, _

Smoke agitated my weeping eyes. The dirt crunched beneath my feet, the cacophonous scent of burning flesh assaulted my throat and lungs. The ashes fell onto my shoulders like dandruff. Bony flesh fell into my arms. Sobbing, all I could think was 'How could this happen?'

_A month earlier…Febuary 23rd, 1945 _

The train clattered down the tracks, but I couldn't hear it. The raucous noise of the compartment drowned out the _clackity clack,_ and it was hard to hear the person standing next to you. This, of course, made it even louder as men screamed over each other to be heard. We had left Hageunau 5 hours ago and I think I lost my hearing 30 minutes into the trip.

Luz and I managed to grab a spot by the window before the majority of the men were loaded on, so we had it better then the men in the middle of the car, who had nothing but the back of their neighbors head to stare at. I glared through the swirling smoke at the fields of dead grass and snow. The trees past by in a whirl.

When we reached Savevne, we were loaded onto trucks and entered the last leg of our journey back to Mourmelon.

George and the boys had attempted a game of poker but in the open air the cards blew away. After a few tries, which led to the lot of us scrambling about to regain the cards, the game ended.

Joe Leibgott returned the deck to his pocket and turned his attention to Webster. They picked on each other for a time before settling down to talk to the rest of the platoon.

"So Frankie…" George stared at me from the other side of the truck. "What is it you do?" He tossed his head to the side, "You know, when our country isn't at war."

I turned to him and stared. "Y' know George," I started," The sad thing is… I've known you for months, and this is the first personal question you have ever asked me."

His eyebrows scrunched together as he thought it over. He shrugged as he said, "So what is it you do?"

"I'm an artist," I readjusted myself awkwardly, waiting for the laugher and cat calls. Surprisingly, none came.

"No shit?" George's interest was piqued. "I've never seen you draw anything. How can you call yourself an artist if you never draw anything?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I've never written a letter either."

His eyes widened slightly. "And your Ma's ok with that?"

I shrugged trying to hide the sting of his question under nonchalance. I almost wanted to be mad at him but that wouldn't be fair. He didn't know about my situation.

George just shook his head. "I'd write to her if I were you. I'm sure she's gained a few grey hairs while worrying over your bastard self."

Joe Leibgott interrupted us. "Feeling remorseful Luz? I've never seen you pick up a pen either. Hell I never even knew you were capable of feeling remorse, I'll have to add that to the other three emotions I know you're capable of displaying."

"You're a bastard, Joe." George rolled his eyes.

"Your right," Joe agreed, arms resting on the wall of the truck. "But I'm your bastard."

Lipton shook his head and rolled his eyes at our stupidity. He reminded me of Marge Simpson and, like a good mother, he also had a solution. "You should draw us something, Frankie."

George sprung up like an exited lapdog. "Yeah, Frankie! Draw us something!"

I smiled bemused and held out my hand. "I need paper and a pencil."

After a few moments of furious scrounging, I had a wrinkled letter and a two inch, chewed upon pencil. I used one of my K-ration boxes for a desk and flipped the page over to the blank side. I sucked on the graphite for a moment trying to think of something to draw. My fingers were cold.

"What should I draw?"

George looked at me and criticized. "Well you're the artist."

Leibgott blew out a mouthful of smoke and said, "Draw me a pretty Jewish gal, with long legs and huge tits."

If I hadn't been around the men for so long, I would have found his suggestion highly insulting.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "Alright, anyone have a better idea?"

The men stared at me as if I were crazy.

"Draw the broad, Frank." Perconte demanded.

With opposition like that, who was I to say no?

After about twenty minutes, I passed the paper back to Luz and he let out a satisfied whistle. "Well look at that, you actually can draw."

Lipton looked over George's shoulder and grinned at me. "Never doubted ya, Frankie."

"Let me see!" Leibgott growled as he pulled the letter away from George. The two bickered with each other, and the general mood of the passengers declined from there.

I decided to completely withdraw myself from the escalating madness and I stuck my hand into the inside of my jacket and pulled out Bucks letter.

I folded back the wrinkled paper and reread it for the tenth time.

_Frankie, _

_Wipe that look off your face. I bet you're staring at this letter with half a mind to burn it where you stand. Well don't. You'll regret it later on. _

_Good, now that you gave Luz his lighter back, I'll tell you what I should have told you right off. _

_I'm at a hospital in England, I met your brother. Don't worry, he's fine. I was out walking around Aldbourne (anything to get away from that hospital) when I ran into some of the 82__nd__ boys. We shared a few drinks and played a few hands before I noticed a fellow who was in the middle of everything but no one seemed to notice him. I didn't think too much of it at first. Until I saw a dart fly through his head, and the man remained un phased. Now that I have you attention I'm going to skip some of the nonsense and get to the point. _

_The 'ghost' later told me he was Antoine Russo, your older brother. He seems to be in the same condition in which I first found you, invisible, untouchable, unnoticed. However unlike you objects don't seem to affect him. Darts, bullets, shrapnel, it all goes strait through him. _

_Is there something you need to be telling me? Or is this news to you also? _

_On the other hand, my case of trench foot has been getting better and I should be able to return to Easy in a few months. If for some reason I do not…_

_I will see you in California. _

_-Buck_

I sighed and folded the letter up, before sliding it back into my breast pocket. The fact that Antonie was still around was news to me; and the fact he hadn't solidified brought an even worse taste to my mouth. What the hell was Angelo doing? Why was my brother even here?

"Damn, Frank," Leibgott whacked me on the shoulder. "You should open a business drawing these girls; you'd be the richest bastard in the whole ETO."

The men laughed at my surprised expression and the trucks rolled on.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Mourmelon was a lovely place without the snow. The buildings were made of brick and stone and civilians walked the streets. A few tough flowers poked through the frozen ground and brought a bit of color into the world. Despite the pleasantries of the town, I found my eyes drawn to the forest.

The shattered black tree tops reminded me of split ends, and the dirty patches of snow which survived beneath the shady branches still kept records of our occupation. I could see the shallow lip of a shell creator and what was, at a time, a defensive position.

I tore my eyes away from the tree line and allowed myself to be swept away in the crowd.

After the obligatory 15 minutes of milling about the company gathered around town square to receive orders. Speirs shoved his way to the front, looking unhappy.

A man beside me whispered. "Bloody Speirs must not have killed anyone recently." He jabbed his friend in the ribs and grinned. "I'd watch out, he'll probably go for replacements first."

I rolled my eyes at their stupidity. Some people take those legends too seriously. I clenched my hands together as memories flowed over me. I remembered the time I stumbled across the 'dancing' Germans, the unhinged way Speirs acted at times in the forest… In truth most men didn't even know the half of it.

"Men!" Speirs stood on the large marble pedestal, in the center of the square, gazing down at the lot of us. "It has been a long, tough, war and it is not over, and it will not be over until Berlin falls. Taking in account of what the Company has done in the past, we have to assume the 101st will be the spearhead for that attack. However, we need to rebuild our ranks, and regain our strength before doing so. The next two days will be free days for you all, take it as a two day pass. After we will start drilling, and prepare ourselves to be redeployed."

The Captain nodded at us, placed his helmet back on his head and stalked off. The sergeants surprised by his sudden actions called for a salute and we were dismissed.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

My eyes were half open in the darkness. Sleep did not come easy. Nothing felt right. Even the usual comforts of being near my comrades didn't help. Not the smell of burned out cigarettes, the scratchy wool blankets, or the odd snore. Nothing felt right in these pristine beds.

My ears were busy straining for the sounds my brain knew I would not hear. I awaited the sound of bombs screaming down, the shriek of the siren or the screams of men. The blank silence engulfed my being and terrified my rabbit-like heart.

My fingers grasped the blankets as I pulled myself up. Reaching for the outline of my boots in the darkness, I slid my bare feet into them. After stuffing the shoelaces into the boots, I crept out of the room.

Down the stairs, through the living room, and out the door, I left my billeted house. The streetlamps were out, and the only lights in Mourmelon were the searchlights in the sky, and the stars that shined back. A more philosophical person would wonder which light would outshine the other. To them I would answer, the stars, a light may go out, but the stars will burn for all eternity.

I walked down the puddle filled streets towards the outskirts of town. I didn't mind the darkness of the place. It was calming to me; it added a danger and my nerves were lapping it up.

I passed the last house and stepped into the field where we played football a month ago. I came to a stop amidst the stubby, frost covered, wheat sprouts and looked towards the forest. Trees creaked and shattered in my mind, the night sky was awash with fiery reds and oranges. I could feel the heat of exploding shells and the rain like feel of falling dirt.

Two deer that darted towards the trees brought my imagination to a halt. There hadn't been any deer in my frozen hell. The fact that animals were returning to the area was proof enough that the war held between those trees was over.

I could hear the crunch of feet behind me and I turned around. It was Speirs. I could tell by the way he walked; he had the walk of an action star. Straight, powerful, never halting.

"Evening sir," I greeted, "Although, I suppose I should say, good morning."

"I should have known it was you," He responded as he stopped by my side. "None of the men just stand there when I find them. You're the only one who ever stays."

He paused for a moment looking into the forest, "Does it worry you, being so close to them?"

"No the trees don't worry me." I shoved my hands in my pockets and slouched forward slightly, "What happened in them does."

The Captain didn't seem to have an answer for that. He gripped my shoulder and stared at me. "Go back to sleep Russo, it's too early for your philosophical talks."

His hand slid off my shoulder as he turned about and made way towards the town.

I went after him. "Why are you out here, sir?"

He didn't answer me.

I could hear the rustling of cloth in the darkness and could see the outline of his movements in the dark. He brought his hands to his lips and flicked open his lighter. The flame burst into the open. For a moment I saw the flames flickering in his blank eyes, and I found myself entranced by the shadow like movement. The lighter flicked closed and his eyes were lost in a stream of smoke.

"Do you want one?"

We walked past the first row of houses. My arm brushed his. "No, I'm fine."

"Don't you have any bad habits?" I could hear the smile on his words.

"I have plenty sir. I drink, I swear, I don't go to church. I haven't written to my mother. I love…" I caught myself just in time. That tidbit was something I just couldn't tell him. Something I couldn't acknowledge myself. "I just don't smoke sir. It's bad for you."

"Fey," The word sounded unusual coming from his mouth. "Everything is bad for you. You just have to decide what of the bad is actually good."

We came upon the town square and stopped beneath the statue.

I stared up at him, incredulous. "What bad thing can possibly be good for you?"

He smiled at me. "Love."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_Dear Buck,_

_You think I would burn you letter? What kind of person do you think I am? You were right though, I was contemplating it. It was your own fault really, what the hell do you think you were doing addressing the letter to my actual self? Have you really gone insane? _

_And what the hell is this about my brother? It sure is news to me. I mean I did see him just before we headed into the Bulge debacle, but I figured he was as solid as I. I'm still searching for answers myself, but I have come upon some developments since you left. Angelo, the dirty bastard, informed me that I am going to be stuck here for the rest of my lowly existence because 'I was meant to be here'. Who does he think he is? A telephone fortune teller? I'm sure I've lost you with that last comment. Don't worry you'll learn about it in a few years. Also Angelo is apparently my great grandnephew or some shit. Mind explaining that to me? Also don't let my brother in on this. I don't need him worrying about me any more then he already does. I'll let you do that alright? _

_In other news, things are going pretty well in the company. We're back in Mourmelon, taking a short vacation from the war. When I say short, I do mean short. The higher ups are giving us today and tomorrow to rest then its back to work. _

_George and I are at a movie right now. I can't say I like these 1940's flicks of yours, they just don't compare to the movies of the 21__st__ century. Listen to me now my love, there is one movie series to rule them all… __**Star Wars**__… and maybe __**The Godfather**__…we'll have to debate that later on... _

_It's me again. The boys just played some football; I managed to escape getting my face driving into the dirt by Lt. Welsh. Word of my drawing prowess spread through the company and he wanted me to draw a portrait of himself for his beloved Kitty Grogan. (I'll be sure to sketch you a little something something at the end of the letter) As much as I hate to admit it, Leibgott may be right, being the companies artist is going to make me rich. _

_We start training tomorrow and I'm not looking forward to that. I just keep praying that we don't have to wear our PT uniforms. Those short shorts are going to be my undoing. That reminds me, Speirs knows. He found out back in Hageunau. Even worse, I'm beginning to feel like Scarlet O'hara to Ashley Wilkes(and I don't even want it.), I hope you get what I mean…If you don't I have lost all hope in you and pray you never become a detective. _

_I hope to see you soon,_

_-Frank Russo _

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Training started the next morning. Johnny Martin burst into our rooms at 5:00 screaming bloody murder; it was such a shock most everyone jumped out of their beds expecting a German offensive. Our usually serious sergeant looked quite pleased with himself and ordered us to be dressed in five minutes. Good news however, no orders to wear PT gear.

After snagging a quick breakfast, we reported to the fields. Third platoon was already there when we arrived and First platoon arrived shortly after.

Speirs and Lipton worked us hard. We crept, we crawled, we ran, we jumped, ducked, dodged and dove. They had us retrain in weapon handling and hand to hand combat. I got my ass handed to me on a silver platter. The men seemed to outshine me in everything. They were faster, they were stronger. They actually had this training before. I only got to read the rule book.

This work continued on for three weeks. The cause of the pause in training arrived on March 15th, and called for the biggest show of pomp and circumstance Easy would participate in until the surrender of Germany three months later.

But of course I wouldn't learn about this rather important event until a while yet. When the news did strike however, it was covered in large flashing lights and required quite a bit of hand soap, but that's a story for a later time.

It was March tenth, a Saturday, when the first whispering of this event came to me. Early in the morning, I had kidnapped Gene from his work at the aid station, fully intent on occupying his time for the rest of the day.

We had already visited the small bakery for breakfast when talk of his work interrupted our day off.

"Look Fey, I need make a run over by second platoon."

I huffed. "Why would you possibly want to do that Gene? Ain't I good enough for you? You feel like you need some improvement in company? Is that it?" I glowered at my coffee cup.

"OH, shush, you! I need to check on Shifty, da boys got the flu, and I don't need your sour mind making it even worse for him."

We eyed each other, waiting for the other to break down and submit to the others plans.

"Fine." I rid myself of my coffee cup and we made our way to second platoon.

We found Shifty inside, sprawled on the couch playing solitaire as the other men bustled about, getting ready to enjoy their day off.

"How you doin Shifty." Gene called as we entered. Shifty looked up sluggishly and grinned that grin of his.

"M'all right Doc, don't you worry none."

The good doctor fussed over him like a mother hen, while our sniper demurely tried to steer him away.

"Aw now, I'm fine, you don't need to fuss over me none! You tol' him I was jus' fine didn't you Frankie? I tol' you to tell him, knowing he would come fuss like he does. Your day off too Doc, I'll be fine for just a day, you don't need to worry bout me."

I could see a blush rising on the poor boys face because of all the attention.

"I'm sorry Shifty, I tried, but you know how he gets."

Gene gave me the eyes and pulled a few pills from his pocket. "You be sure to take dese every four hours."

Our sweet, yet indignant, sniper nodded and I managed to drag Gene off.

"Gene, how do you expect me to show you a good time if you're always running off to work! It's not fair!"

The medic just shook his head. "I'm just watching out for the men Fey. Dere's nothing wrong with dat.

I led him into the courtyard where pick up football was organized every free day. We took a seat on the statues pedestal near the rest of my squad and hashed out the days plans.

It wasn't long before a private I didn't know tore over to the men from Second. He got flustered when he found himself in front of Johnny Martin and struggled to get a string of actual words out of his mouth. "Eiseh…The General…"

"Shut up and tell us already!" Leibgott protested, as we all gather around the poor kid. Sergeant Martin did what he did best and gave the load of us a death glare.

"What is it, Parker?"

"General Eisenhower is coming!" The young man burst out," I heard Vest telling Perconte, and Vest heard it from Webster, who heard it from Lt. Jones, who was there when Nixon was telling Speirs, so that means Major Winters probably told him!"

We all stared at poor Parker for a moment. "It's probably just a story then." Johnny Martin sat back down and stared at the cards in his hand. A few of the others settled down as well.

"I don't think so, Johnny," Babe said as he scoured his cards. "It makes sense to me. It really started with Nixon, and the only thing he ever lied about to us about was Rita Hayworth kicking the bucket. Hell we all know he only did that so Welsh would be mad enough to throw the poker game of theirs."

There was a chorus of grunts as the men recalled the debacle. Gene and I grinned at each other and I entered into the conversation.

"Babes right, Parkers story sounds rock solid. If it's true, you'd best hope your uniforms are clean, if not…" I shrugged. "Hope Patton's not with him."

There was a chorus of laughter and the day faded away.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The lot of us learned later that evening that Parkers story was indeed true. The leader of the whole ETO would be visiting our company in four days. Speirs's announcement was followed by a large whoop of joy and the room burst into chatter.

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN!" Our Captain roared. "I will not have you looking like you spent the last three weeks rolling in your own filth! Your uniforms will be clean, and I don't care what you have to do to get them that way. THEY BETTER BE PERFECT!" He turned around and strode out the room and we burst into chatter once more.

George turned to me and said. "They do know there isn't laundries here…don't they?"

I turned to him and nodded grimly. "Sure they do."

"Do you know how to wash clothes?" Doc Roe looked at me intently.

"What you mean besides throw the whites into the machine add some Clorox and Tide and press a few buttons? Who do you think I am…your mother?"

George watched the two of us for a moment then turned to Webster. "So college boy; do you know how to wash clothes?"

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Our following course of action was anything but the norm. The whole company spent the next day scouring the town for soap bars, while Joe Domingus, the company cook, set huge pots of water to boil.

Gene and I managed to find a half used bar of soap after digging around under the sink at our billeted house. Malarkey walked by the bathroom, watched us as we struggled about awkwardly and let out a laugh. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Looking for soap," George grunted, as he stretched his fingers towards the illusive bar.

"Why?"

"Speirs said our uniforms needed to be clean, you heard him."

Malarkey shrugged his thin shoulder and let out a stream of smoke. "I'm not cleaning mine. Those bastard generals need to see what a real soldier looks like. I'm sure when they make these company tours of theirs, all the men are looking their best, just like your going to be. I bet those generals don't have the slightest idea the hell we've been through. I want to be the first one to show them."

George and I tumbled out of the bathroom after him, soap bar in hand. "Are you insane?"

"Really, Malark, have…"

Our red headed sergeant turned the corner into his room and shut the door on our faces.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The sky was a clear blue on the morning of March 15th. Large fluffy clouds blocked the sun like a whole filled umbrella. I shaded my eyes as I stared up at the sky and tried to find shapes in the clouds. Some men talked quietly beside me, each partaking in their own bored activity.

I had just managed to find a whale shaped puffball when a noticeable burst in the conversation appeared. I tuned my ears into what they were saying and quickly looked for the subject of their murmuring.

Malarkey had stayed true to his word and showed up at the town square in a rumpled, dirty uniform. He walked in front of the officers, head held high, and with such nonchalance you could have imagined him in the purest white. Only he wasn't, I could see dark stains on the arms of his uniform, where the tell tale of blood remained even after the wash in Hageunau. Despite the morbidity of his outfit, he looked happy, pleased even, and even more…he looked like a real soldier.

Malarkey stopped before Winters and gave him a salute before proudly taking his spot in front of our squad.

I could imagine Winter's suppressed grin, Nixon's outright smirk, and the death glare Malark's retreating form would be receiving from Speirs.

Our company had taken on an unusual formation for the General's visit. Standing in the town square, we made a boxy horse shoe around the statue's podium. Each Platoon taking up one side of the horseshoe, and I being in the second of three platoons was stationed in the middle. To make things even more precise we were also lined up in rows according to squad.

George nudged me with his elbow. "Looks like Sparky's going to kill someone."

As always, it seemed as if Luz would be right. I could see Speirs gritting his teeth as he glanced back at Malarkey. After spending so much time with the volatile young man it was well known to me that the gnashing of teeth was a very bad sign.

I exchanged a glance with Luz and he looked at me pointedly. "Well, shouldn't you be running off to quell the fire in his soul?" He smiled impishly and added after a shocked expression of my own"...Y'know being his good friend and all."

I looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Since when have you had the vocabulary for a word like _quell?" _

He rolled his eyes and smacked my arm, but the smile didn't drift from his face.

Fifteen minutes past before the makeshift band announced the arrival of the two generals. Eisenhower and the 506th's personal General Taylor. The two men walked out of the Company HQ and down the open end of the U to stand on the statues base. Eisenhower gazed out over the ranks and smiled at us seriously. I suppose all speeches begin this way, seriously, but as I listened to him talk I could only pray this day would end on a lighter matter.

Sure the General went over how well we had done repelling the attacks made during the Battle of the Bulge, our liberation of Foy, Mourmelon, and the other towns in the area. He even stressed the battled to come.

Eisenhower spoke softly; he didn't need to be a fire and brimstone preacher. The simple might of his presence was enough to convey his emotions on the matter. He stared out over the crowd, including each of us in the replayed account of our actions. I felt a sense of elation that I had yet to feel for a very long time. It wasn't the tight, encompassing feel of love, nor the bubbly, springiness of friendship. This feeling went beyond that in a way I could never describe.

President…General Eisenhower stood before me, hands working to pin a long three colored bar onto my uniform. Once his task was complete Eisenhower took a step back and held out his hand. His grey blue eyes stared down at me from his immense height as his hand gripped mine firmly. I felt myself become lost in his presence as he congratulated me on my hard work and conveyed his respect for me and my honorable actions. I must have said something relatively intelligent as response because his smile became a bit more genuine and he gave me a pat on the shoulder with his enormous hand.

He moved down the line in a similar fashion until he came upon our beloved Sergeant Malarkey. His eyes scoured up and down the redhead's slight frame and for a moment we waiting in anticipation. Then a huge smile appeared on Eisenhower's face and he looked about our assembled squad.

"Now this man actually looks like a soldier!"

A round of laughter erupted from our group and when it quieted down our General looked around at the gathered faces and said. "You've done me proud boys. As an officer or a man I could hardly ask for more. You boys have shown the world what Americans can do. The last of the German Reich is ready to crumble beneath your feet; I can only ask you to do one thing for me…" Eisenhower gazed over our assorted faces and departed after some famous last words. "Give 'em hell boys."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Later that afternoon once Eisenhower and General Taylor had departed, Speirs tried to get his revenge on Malarkey. The squad had been out on the town celebrating our sergeant's good fortune when upon returning to our billeted house, we came upon a fury of activity.

Speirs was standing in the middle of the main room, arms crossed, glaring at the two Company Aides that tore our lodgings apart. A small pile of items had been collected by his feet and the lot of us stood in the doorway stumped by this odd scene.

Our Captain turned to us when he noticed the breeze drifting in.

"Ah shit." I said under my breath when I caught a look at his face. He had his devil look on, lips pressed together and eyes glazed gates to hell.

His eyes bored into our huddled mass and he spoke sharply, "Well, get in here."

We walked inside; Babe grabbed hold of my shoulders and pushed me in front of him. I couldn't help but wonder if he felt I was a force field against the wrath of Speirs, or was willing to give me up as sacrifice.

Speirs didn't seem to take the bait and glared at the seven of us. He thrust a magazine into our view.

It was Titter, and old copy that had been making the rounds for months. It just happened that this week had been our squads turn to enjoy the naughty pictures.

"I came here," He said glazed eyes scoping us out. "To congratulate you on making such an impression on General Eisenhower. He seems to have taken to you, Malarkey." He threw the magazine onto a table and stalked closer to us.

"However, I found that when I came in." He thrust his hands onto his hips. "I'm sure you know the rules by now so I won't bore you with the facts." He looked over us once more.

"Whose is it?"

The house was silent.

"**Tell me!**"

**"It's Frankie's!**" Cobb burst out.

I jammed my elbow into his side, but I didn't feel any better when I heard his pained yelp.

Speirs's head jerked from him to me and I could see him struggling to hold back a smile.

"Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"It is sir. Frankie's a huge pervert; I guess he has to make up in size in some area." Cobb responded with vengeance.

My fingers hooked into claws. "He's lying." I growled.

"One of you fess up or you'll all get court marshaled."

We all started shouting at the same time but it was one string of words that won out.

"**It's Frankie's!!** The others insisted.

Speirs sighed and started walking to the door. "Alright Russo, come on."

I shot the men a death glare and jammed my middle finger towards the sky before following our Captain out.

We walked side by side down the street and a smile broke out onto his face. "Your squad's a bunch of liars."

"Dirty bastards," I growled.

Speirs chuckled. "Whose was it, really?"

"Sir, that magazines been circulating so long, the guy who bought it originally doesn't even remember."

He smiled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I thought it looked familiar."

It was then I noticed he hadn't taken the porno with him. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "You know sir, If I didn't know you better, I would suspect that was an elaborate scheme to get some alone time with me."

He opened the door to company HQ and lead me inside. We walked down the hall and entered his office. He sat down on the edge of his desk and smirked. "How do you know it wasn't?"

I managed to keep a strait face for a moment but then I burst into laughter.

He seemed rather pleased with himself as he motioned for me to take a seat.

He stared at his cluttered desk for a moment. "I am going to have to give you some sort of punishment. You do know that."

I shrugged not expecting anything else.

He sighed. "You know how to type?"

"Yeah, I'm not bad." Hell, not bad was an understatement. Before I got pulled into this mess I could type a full page in less then three minutes.

"Go be Nixon's secretary for a bit. The man is the worst typist I've seen."

I stood up and headed towards the door; I put my hand on the knob and turned around. I smiled a bit as I said. "Oh, sir? If you feel like handing out a few more punishments today, Cobb has a stash of ladies underwear hidden beneath the floorboards under his bed. Just so you know."

I smirked all the way down to Nix's office.

My fingers were cold and I was tired of holding my arms up to reach the awkwardly shaped typewriter. I had typed up pages and pages of boring reports for Nixon, who was all but too happy to have someone share in the pain of composing those articles. Together we strived through the nitty grit ties of the operations, and day to day happenings.

I could tell he was pleased by my help and he stopped me as I wrapped up.

"You should get into trouble more often." Nixon grinned.

I smiled back and handed him the last paper to be signed. "Just don't make me your personal aide, sir. I don't think I could live with myself if you did."

He rolled his eyes and waved me towards the door. "Get lost, Russo."

We saluted each other and I left. As I walked down the hall way I couldn't help but overhear yelling from inside Speirs's room. "**What the **_**hell **_**were you doing with fourteen pairs of women's underwear?! You're not wearing them are **_**you?!" **_

I laughed all the way back to the billeted house.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_Dear Frankie,_

_WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING! Falling for Sparky like that? _

_Yes, I understand your allusion to __**Gone with the Wind**_**;**_ what kind of hole do you think I live in? It's the only movie they play around here anymore. I may be wrong but I think comparing Speirs to Ashley Wilkes is a bit of a stretch. I'm really starting to think its_you _whose gone insane. Then again you never were sane, so you've just managed to slip farther into insanity without me. _

_Fey trust me when I say this. Don't pursue that course. He is married after all; you do know that don't you Scarlet?_

_Antoine left a few weeks ago, I haven't heard from him since. He still is in the dark about your predicament, I feel as If I am too. Will you actually tell me about it this time around? Or does that call for a face to face? And what the hell is the __**Godfather**__? Mind explaining that to me? _

_Fey darling, if were going to make this relationship work, you have to start telling me things. Like the fact Eisenhower came to visit you. Wouldn't that be a nice piece of information to know? I didn't even get an invite! What kind of friend are you?_

_Damn! The wicked witch of the western wing approaches! Damn these nurses and their impeccable timing. _

_-Buck_

_p.s. The other guys in the hospital enjoyed your little drawling on the last letter. Personally I suggest you make a sequel. _

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Gene and I were out on the line. Utterly pointless I know, but every man had to take a two hour shift during the course of the week. It seems like Sink didn't want us getting out of practice. I could only wonder how you could mess up sitting in a hole, waiting for something bad to happen. It's seems pretty strait forward to me.

We sat in a shallow foxhole which reminded me of the line posts we had back during the Bulge. Some of the men took it upon themselves to make a roof for the shelter which helped protect my medic and me from the drizzling rain.

Sitting across from each other, we didn't pay any attention to the going on's of the forest. I held a stubby pencil in my hand and balanced a pad of paper on my knee.

"What was it Christianson wanted his girl to be wearing?" I asked Gene as I stared at the outline of a woman before me.

The Cajun took a sip of his coffee, "Wasn't it something about coconuts and palm leaves?"

"The classic Hawaiian girl then?"

"Guess so."

We eyed each other for a moment, and then I cracked a smile. "You're too serious Gene. Don't make me fell like a worthless girlfriend."

The dark haired medic snorted. "Da moment anyone could make you feel that way, Bill Guarnere would become a priest."

We both snickered at the thought.

"You never did tell me about that girl of yours, back in Hageunau you know." I started sketching a grass skirt on to Christianson's girl.

"And I'm never going to."

"Well fine if you're going to be that way."

Two shadows appeared out of the drizzle of the forest. "Doc Roe?" A man called.

"Yah, M here!"

Cobb jogged towards us as he spoke. "They need you in town. Smith broke his arm."

Gene groaned and clambered out of the shelter. "Where's he at?"

"Third platoons house."

I tossed my drawling inside my bag and climbed out after him. "It was so nice of you to offer to take the watch Cobb. You're such a swell guy." I teased as I walked past the blond haired man.

We glared at each other as I walked past. We still not forgotten the Titter/under pant war.

Light rain condensed on my helmet as I walked and dripped off in slow drops. Shoving my hands into my pocket I tried not to look at the forest. But budding trees began to color the forest, and I couldn't help but reach out and pluck a few wet leaves. The sounds of Cobb and his friend settling in got became quieter as I traveled on. Distracted by the coming beauty I drifted farther into the forest.

I turned down a half hidden dear path and let my fingers touch the small saplings, and dead plant stalks as I walked. This part of the forest seemed untouched by war. I didn't see any burst treetops, or shattered limbs. The undergrowth was thick and natural without bomb craters marring the scene.

I paused for a moment to take in this untouched world, silently appreciating what life would be like with out war.

There was a pause in the silence of the forest that just didn't seem right. Then every sound came tumbling back.

"How's it going Cher?"

I let out a low growl.

"Angelo. Didn't expect to see you so soon." I called over my shoulder with a frown.

He shrugged and walked a few steps closer. "I figured you would expect the unexpected by now. The whole Boy Scout 'Be Prepared' thing is pretty much the Ten Commandments of your life."

"And I suppose one of yours is 'Thou shalt try to ruin thy kin's lives?"

"You always were petty." He flicked a hand through his bleached hair.

Rain started to come down harder and my great nephew's hair plastered to his forehead. I could see the black of his T-shit underneath the soggy white lab jacket.

"Why are you here Angelo?"

He jerked his head up. "You're a horrible hostess, you know that? I feel pity for your husband. You didn't even invite me in for tea." He scoffed and pushed his bangs out of his face. "I will tell you though, seeing as you asked so nicely… I'm here to say goodbye love. Tell me you'll miss me?"

"Oh how I will pine!" I quipped, thrusting my hands onto my hips "You'll be gone long?"

"For a while. The Organization has had enough of my shit. Their much like you in that aspect. So until I manage to finish constructing my own Clockwork Machine you'll be on your own. Hopefully you won't fuck up too badly."

"Me fuck up? _NO_! How could you even insinuate that? Well really Angelo, have some faith, maybe if you do, you'll actually be able to… well I don't know. Grow a conscience?"

"You always were funny. You never thanked me, you know. For saving your ass all those times. Your brothers too. You should be down on bended knee, praising the glory of my deeds."

"You're deranged."

"It must run in the family."

"You're not going to have any family if my brother dies because of you."

"Your brother's safe, I sent him home a week ago, after he met that Compton of yours in the hospital."

A wave of relief hit me and I couldn't help but smile a bit. "Good. Now you just have to get me back, and we'll be dandy."

"Darling, you know you're never going back. Stop asking."

"A girl can hope." I responded.

"**Screw your hope!" **He shouted. "**You don't have much time left!**" His hands clenched and his blue eyes flashed.

I was taken back by his reaction. "What?"

"I'm leaving Fey don't you get it? You're going to be on your own from now until I get my Clockwork Machine up and running. You're going to have to deal everything. I'm not going to be here to steer you away from certain disaster like I have been. **Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"**

We stared at each other wearing grim masks. "Angelo…I understand you better than you think. Get gone. Go make your fancy time machine. I don't care. I don't care about you or your damn Organization."

"You should care!" He grabbed my arms and shook me. "You need to know Fey! So listen to me for once!"

I shoved him away and readjusted my helmet. "Then talk fast."

He wiped the rain off of his face and paused before speaking." Alright then, here's the deal, in the future there are two Companies who have vast numbers of Clockwork Machines. Clockworks as you guessed are fancy time machines. They take your consciousness and transport it back into the past. While your there, everything you are viewing is recorded into a computer. Where it is then logged and placed into archives. In this fashion, we can record every moment of any event in the past. A historians dream if you will. That's what the majority of the people using the machines are. Historians.

"I'm sure your wondering, 'what happens to these bodies while this event takes place', usually nothing. They usually just chill out in the Clockwork pods. Except, in certain cases the whole body can be transferred along with the conscious. I was the first to come upon this instance and as you can imagine, I used this power on you.

"Your whole being in here, there is nothing left of you in 2008 except the fond memories of your parents. They are under the impression you eloped and moved to England with your husband. You brother however, knows differently, but he wouldn't dare tell them what really happened."

My fists clenched, I could only imagine what Angelo did to Antoine to seal his lips. Through clenched teeth I asked. "…and the two companies?"

"They're rival companies if you get my drift, willing to do anything to come out ahead of the other. My company, the Ordinance, is a government ran program and the other the Organization is privately owned by a bunch of religious fanatics…

"Something you will find shocking. The two companies have huge influence upon the other. Remember those two men who beat you up in Aldbourne? They were part of the Organization.

My company took offense to two of the Organizations cronies entering their field of business and tampering with one of their users. The two were sentenced to 5 years in prison because of what they did. "

"So why do they find out about me?" I prompted through numb lips.

"They found you in the same fashion I did. An old photograph, they did their research, located you in the 21st century, and kept an eye on your movements.

"Unfortunately at the time, I sent you back into the past, I didn't notice they had a tag on you. They checked on you every few months and when you turned up missing they scoured the timeline for your consciousness. They didn't find it for three months. They sent those two murders after you, and you know what happens next.

"The Organization doesn't like the fact you're solid. They thought you would screw up the timeline and cause mass chaos in the future. Not so, I did my research. God meant for you to be in the 1940's, so I did his will and made it happen. You see I'm called Angelo for a reason."

He smiled at me now. A huge oily car salesman smile. It made me queasy inside as I tried to work through everything he told me.

"How do you expect me to live if the Organization comes after me? You make it sound like I have no chance against them."

"That's just it Fey, there not going to be after you. I made sure of it. I created a computer virus and set it loose in their mainframe. They won't be able to function as a company much longer. Even if they don't go bankrupt, they will be too busy struggling to rebuild their company to even remember you."

I let my breath out slowly and crossed my arms protectively around me. "I hope you know Angelo, you have a habit of making things very hard for people. We'd both be happier if you just let it alone."

He put his arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear. "But that's too easy."

The trees budding branches rustled in the wind and the weight of his arm left me.

I glared around the empty clearing and muttered. "Always has to have the last word."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I returned to camp in a foul mood. Little could be done to improve it, not the warm greeting I received from the men when I dropped my bag and rifle off at the boarding house, nor the offer of joining the poker game. I left them confused and their concerned voices called after me as I turned back around and exited the house.

Most everyone was inside because of the rain, so I was alone on the street and that suited me just fine. In depth thinking was always hard in groups, so I walked down the deserted streets towards company HQ. I knew the officers would soon be leaving for the night, and then I could distract myself with Speirs.

I sat on the damp stoop and waited. The setting sun left the town in eternal dust and lights from inside the houses bounced off the dark puddle. I could hear Frank Sinatra crooning from inside of the houses I sang along under my breath. Awaiting the arrival of my captain.

The door opened and shut then the sound of leather footsteps on wet cement.

"Why are you out here in the rain?" Speirs asked.

"Waiting for you,' I shrugged, "why else?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" he held his hand out to me and pulled me to my feet.

"I try." I grinned at him, warmth spreading between out fingers.

His hand pulled away from mine as we walked towards the end of the street.

"Why were you waiting for me?"

"I wanted to talk with you."

A smug look arose on his face. "Good, you never talk to me anymore. Not like you use to back in Bastogne. You usually go to that medic of yours. I can assume this is important then?"

I grimaced slightly. "Its always important sir."

He stopped for a moment, most likely sensing he had regressed in this conversation. I only ever called him sir when he was having one of his moments.

"Fey." Speirs murmured, drawling my attention back to him.

"Yeah?" There was a sudden change in the air, like it was filled with static. My heart pounded and I began to feel that light headed sensation that comes when you know something big was going to happen.

His hand touched my neck and our eyes met. His usually calm demeanor had cracked, and was replaced with an intensity I had never seen. "Come with me." His words were like dust on a photograph, gritty but not entirely unexpected. He took my hand and pulled me around the corner into a long alleyway.

I could feel the rapid pulse in my neck as we drifted away from the street. The alley was dim and as we neared the end of the building we were in all but shadow.

His hand let go of mine and his arms wrapped around my hips as my shoulders slowly came in contact with the wall.

My chin rose and I looked at him through half lidded eyes. Silently commanding him with those four words so often heard in the movies. _Kiss me you fool._

His lips came crashing down on my own, all too eager to fulfill my request. My fingers snared in his jacket and I pulled him closer. His tongue brushed against my lower lip asking for permission, which I was all too happy to grant.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and lightly ran my fingers over the back of his neck. I could hear the quiet rumbling of pleasure in his chest and pulled away from his kiss.

I nuzzled into his neck and nipped at his skin.

"Fey." He murmured.

"Yeah." My skin tingled as his hands ran down my sides slowly.

"I can't do this."

I paused; dread filling me to the top. "Why?"

"I'm married Fey, we can't do this."

My breath escaped me in a whoosh and my arms fell to my sides.

He stepped back and shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry."

I leaned fully upon the wall; I swallowed, and pressed my eyelids together. "I know."

He brought his hand to my cheek and whispered. "I love you."

The slow sound of his footsteps echoed down the walk, reminding me of what I could never have.

* * *

**Authors note-**

**Sorry for the wait…23 pages will do that for a chapter. Hehe… Message me? **


	21. A Kiss with a Fist

Outside Struzelberg Germany, March 11, 1945

**The present time:**

_Two high wire walls separated us from the skeletons inside but there was no comfort in knowing that fact. My fingers gripped the cold wire of the outside fence as I looked in on the people inside. The inside man stood 20 feet away, mirroring my position. We stared at each other. It was like we were at the zoo. He, seemingly the animal, trapped inside glorified walls, and I on the outside, was privileged to view his activities. But no, that may have not been the case for him. That poor starved man may have seen me as the animal. The soldier, the killer, the man who acted like an ant, doing as Queen Eisenhower said. He may have seen the fence as a device to keep us out, to keep us away from what was left of him and his family. I prayed that I was wrong. _

_I heard the nearing rumble of machinery and my heart pounded against my ribs. My fingers clenched around the fence and the cold metal burned my hand. I swallowed and pulled myself away. I should have been crying, a better person than I would have, but I couldn't. It was too late for tears, too late to be sorry. I was born in the late 1989, This whole war ended 40 years before I was born. It was too late to do anything about it. _

_The line of trucks came to a halt and the men poured out. Winters slipped from his jeep, followed closely by Nixon and Speirs. Bull moved to his side and spoke quietly to the three men. He motioned to the rest of the search party and I drifted near. I fell into the swill of men and was surprised by their silence. _

_Many of their faces were scrunched up against the smell of burning flesh, and the cesspool scent of the camp. My fingers pulled into my palm and got cold. I swallowed back the anger that rose inside me and move forward, towards the gate. _

_I hovered behind the officers, waiting for them to order the gate open. I wanted it open; I wanted to find that man. I wanted to find him, and revel in the sins of this countries past. It wasn't long before it came and the group surged forward like a slow river, a few men wavered in the gate, questions floating all around. _

_"What is this place?"_

_I whispered the answers to myself as I brushed by. "It's a concentration camp."_

_The dry dust clung to my boots as it was kicked into the air by the sudden surge of movement. The skeleton men swarmed us, throwing their stick arms around our necks, and kissing our cheeks with desaturated lips. _

_Smoke agitated my eyes. The dirt crunched the wheels of the trucks, the cacophonous scent of burning flesh assaulted my throat and lungs. The ashes fell onto my shoulders like dandruff. Bony flesh fell into my arms. Finally sobbing, I turned my head to the heavens and asked 'How could this happen?' _

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_**Struzelberg Germany, March 7th, 1945**_

_**Four days earlier:**_

Struzelberg was a lovely town, even if it _was_ in Germany. To tell you the truth, I wanted Germany to be an ugly place. I wanted it to be ugly to match its leader, its propagandists, and its generals. I wanted it to be ugly to match the horrors of war. However, that was not the case. Germany was beautiful. The sunshine was golden, the grass was green, the air was crisp, and I loved it. It reminded me of home.

The Toccoa men were rambunctious and the newly gotten replacements loud-mouthed packages of piss and vinegar raring for a fight. It was a bad mixture. There were lots of confrontation between the new men and the seasoned vets. I cannot say I stayed above these skirmishes. I had too little tolerance for noobish inaccuracies to not be involved.

It was braw last night that led to my current predicament. Two hours on the line for agitating the babies. George and I were sprawled about the small watch post, legs propped up on sandbags, road we were suppose to be watching, merrily forgotten. I sang Aerosmith tunes under my breath as we fought it out over a game of poker.

I grinned up at George and he smiled back. We could have used each other for a mirror because of the near symmetrical assembly of bruising. We could say with pride however that the both of us came out better than the other two chumps we clashed with last night. We wore our purple badges of honor with pride.

"I'll raise two." I said breaking from the chorus of _Walk this Way_.

"And I'll match." He yawned. "And Frank, what way are we suppose to be walking?"

"Dunno, never got to see the video."

He grunted in the way the men would when I mentioned something that was beyond their time.

"Sometimes Frank I just don't know about you. You sure your mother didn't drop you on your head?"

"Positive. Now are you gonna fold or what?"

The two hours of sheer boredom past at a craw, but finally Ramirez and McClung came to relieve us. We left them with cat calls and hightailed it back to the town.

"No matter how many mothers you insult next time Luz, I am not going to back you up."

"You say that Russo, But in your head your telling me to do it again." George smirked in my direction.

"Yah yah. Well wait until I get back before starting more trouble."

He paused for a moment, a touch of misunderstanding in his eyes. "You're not going to Nixon's Current Event lecture?"

I shook my head. "I've got some other things to take care of. I'm sure it will be the same stuff. Oklahoma will still be playing on Broadway, The people on the home front are needing something or other, so donate donate donate."

He nodded slowly as if he was having second thoughts… "Well alright then…Don't do anything stupid without me? Got it?" He gave me a cheery grin.

I smacked him on the shoulder. "Sure thing Luz, as long as you don't insult any mothers."

I gave him a wave over my shoulder and we parted ways.

It was shortly after noon when I walked into the post office. Speirs was there, leaning next to a load of silver on the counter. I made an awkward expression and weighed the idea of walking back out. Alley who was playing post master at the time gave me an odd look, noticing my indecision and motioned me forward.

Speirs turned around and nodded. "Russo." His voice was clipped yet oddly pleasant.

"Captain Speirs." I muttered in return, easing myself against the counter a few feet away from him.

"Same destination?" Alley asked Speirs, though he was already busy scrawling the address onto a note card.

"That's right." Speirs nodded, he angled his body towards me. He wanted conversation. I decided not to give it to him.

I stared down at the address scrawled on my letter.

"You alright Russo?" Speirs voice drifted over horridly nonchalant.

"Fantastic." I replied, sarcasm drifted into my tone. I tossed the letter onto the counter. "Make sure that gets to Lt. Compton. It's already a week late." I put a lot of stress on the Lieutenants name, while my eyes dug into Speirs. I turned on heel and strode away

Speirs craned his head around to watch as I stormed out. Just as I reached the door he turned to follow.

"You sure have a lot of nerve." I muttered to the form following behind me.

He just shrugged.

"It's for you wife?" I didn't know why I asked, I knew the answer.

"Back in England."

I responded with a grunt and sped up a bit. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm, pulling me down to his speed. "Fey…." He murmured. "I'm your commanding officer. You can't just run away."

I jerked away. "You're also my friend." I muttered bitterly. "You don't do things like that to your friends."

"What choice did I have? I'm married Fey, I can't just leave my wife."

I ran an angry hand through my hair. "Just leave me alone. It's the only way it's going to work. You can't just make things go back to the way you were. Why don't guys understand that?"

His hand jumped to my shoulder, almost as if he wanted to pull me into a hug, but he resisted. His hand slipped to his side as he stepped away. "We have to try."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I was still brooding the next morning as I waited outside at a small corner café.

An array of graphite covered paper laid before me on the cracked porcelain tabletop. Saltshakers and a bowl of sugar were placed haphazardly atop the billowy sheets. I was crouched over an almost finished drawling, glaring at the piece as I scratched out the darker shadows.

A bare arm reached over my shoulder and placed a teacup before me. I could see coffee swirling black inside it. I glanced up to my waitress and gave her a forced smile. "Danke shon Fralien."

The young German women gave a nod and retreated back inside. I shook my head and grumbled to myself.

I grabbed the sugar bowl and hoped in the five seconds I would be using it, a gust of wind wouldn't come and send my half finished drawings across the town.

"You know Russo, with the way she was glaring at you, I wouldn't drink any of that. I'm sure they've got bottles of arsenic hiding under the sink. I'm sure they'll used just about anything to help their failing army take out GI's like you."

I glanced up at the swarthy Lewis Nixon. "Never knew you had a sense of humor sir."

He grinned and sat down in the chair opposite me. "Only you would think its humor Fey, the rest of the men would think I was being serious."

He grabbed a croissant from the basket lying between us and pulled off some of its flacky goodness. "I never see you alone this early in the morning." His voice was light, companionable. I would always wonder how he was able to do it.

"Gene was supposed to show fifteen minutes ago, but you know how dependable he is these days."

Nixon paused for a moment as if to reassess how much of my usual group remained. First and foremost, he'd have to cross off Buck, Guarnere, Toye, and Doc Roe, he too was an off on companion these days. Cities seemed to do that too us, we were always closest out on the road.

"And Luz?'" He asked coming to a conclusion.

I pulled my papers out from under the saltshakers and tapped them on the table top to gain some order. "He's off with Perconte, finding eggs."

I shoved the drawings into a folder and stuck it back into my bag. I took a sip of coffee and winked. "It doesn't taste like Arsenic, Cyanide maybe?"

"Must be." We grinned at each other for a moment.

I looked out over the town. "How long are we going to be here, sir?"

"A week maybe longer, the only orders we have are to wait for further orders."

I smirked a bit. "Oh the army, so consistent."

The boys were happy and usually that was enough for me. Not now however, I was scared of their happiness, scared of the peaceable terms we were on with the citizens of Germany, and the masses of surrendered troops. It was just as terrifying and as ambiguous as the bombings of Bastogne or the drop at D-Day.

I chided myself for acting silly. What was there to fear from peace? I asked myself this constantly, trying to bull shit myself away from the real answer. War seemed to be an obvious fear, the chance of being shot, getting sick, incapacitated, dying, getting found out…. those fears seemed a lot more eminent that my fear of peace. But I had come to terms with war fears along time ago. Peace was what was scary.

Peace meant the end to the war; it meant an end to all I knew. With armistice came an uncertain future. A future without the supports I had been relying on these past few years. I would loose my brothers, my officers, and friends. I would be dropped in some port city with 20,000 males whose sole goal was to return to their homes. Where would I be then?

Desperately I prayed to return to the time when I had to live with the knowledge that I could be killed at any time. That kind of moment where life and death walked hand in hand had become so appealing because it meant that the war would go on just a little bit longer.

I knew that was never going to happen. Our troopers were seizing Germany like Michel Phelps takes the gold, there was no looking back.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I was the only one who still had their jacket zipped; the day was unusually warm for March, even it we were on a different continent. The gun rested easily in the crook of my elbow, as I minced through the undergrowth, following the sure footsteps of my country boy companions.

Penkala had not been blessed with a light foot like I had and received a great amount of bitching from the others.

Shifty eyed the forest with hunter's eyes, awaiting the approach of an animal. O'Keefe walked to my right, in that eerily awkward movement of a green troop.

We all froze when Shifty raised his clenched fist. There was the near silent crunch of a deer moving through the underbrush. The darling sniper raised his weapon then stopped. Seconds clicked by, and the deer moved away.

Penkala let out a disgruntled wait. "What happened Shifty!"

The poor southern boy just shook his head, checks slowly getting red. "I just couldn't do it."

I worked my way forward with the rest of the group, and gave an ambiguous "Its ok Shifty. I wouldn't kill Bambi's mother either."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I was passing the post office on my way home when Alley's voice rushed from the open door.

"Hey Frankie!" I could see the post master waving frantically. I rolled my eyes and walked inside. "Ah thank god Russo! Can you do something for me?" He started pulling a letters from the hidey holes and placing them on the counter. "I just got a load of shit in for the guys a HQ, but I can't get away from here to get it to them. I usually would just wait till they stop in, but apparently its time sensitive material." He made a bit of a face, and pulled a package from under the counter. "This ones for Nixon. Remind him to stop by wont you?"

I paused as filtered through the officer's letters. "Anything for me?"

"Not any today." He stuck a few letters around and smiled tiredly just as a new wave of men piled in.

"Thanks Russo."

I stuffed the letters into my pockets and hefted the package into my arms. "Mmhmm, yeah you owe me one Alley."

I eased out the door, a bit disappointed by my luck.

I trudged down the street package rattling as I walked. I paused for a moment at the sound. Gently rattling the box and I heard the clink of glass. A frown overcame me and I shook my head. It must be the Vat. I sighed and continued my way down the street. Just as I started to climb the steps to HQ the door opened and I found myself face to face with Speirs.

"Fey."

"Sir."

"You've got mail." I resisted rolling my eyes as I recalled the alert from AOL. I shifted the package under my arm and stuck my other hand into my pockets trying to find the bunch of letters Alley gave me. "Here they are!" I tried sifting through them but it was too awkward with the package under my arm.

Speirs took them and flicked through. He pulled one thin envelope out and handed the others back to me. He nodded and let me into the converted house before walking outside. I stuck the letters back in my pocket and tramped down the hall.

The hallway opened into a rather grand living room, with a huge table in the center of it. Nixon sat at the head seat, feet propped on the dark wood.

"Evening Sir. Russo's Postal Service has a delivery."

Nixon looked up and grinned. "Hohoho aren't you jolly?"

I grinned. "Of course sir." I placed the package in front of him. "Complements of Alley, He expects a visit."

I pulled the other letter from my pocket and placed them on the table. "Make sure the others get those wont you?"

He waved his hand and tried to pull the tape off the box. "Sure thing Russo."

I waved goodbye and took my leave. I reached the hallway and stopped in my tracks. Speirs stomped down the hallway, mouth set and eye boring holes into my face. He forced me back into the dining room and Nixon looked up from where he was pouring a glass.

"What's…"

"IS THIS A HOAX? ARE YOU REALLY YHAT LOW?" He roared shoving me back. His letter was crushed in his hand.

I waved my arms trying to regain my footing. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

He waved the letter in front of my face. "That's the question isn't it? Your so goddamned intent on getting me that you'd fucking forge a letter! Who do you think you are!?"

"Ron, leave her be. She didn't do anything." Nixon stood up glass held firmly in hand but his words were ignored as both our tempers ignited.

I gave my captain a shove. "WHO AM I? WHO ARE YOU? YOU THINK I'm THAT HOT FOR YOU! DON'T YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF EGO?"

Speirs snarled turning toward the swarthy man. "OH so Nixon knows too? Who else's whore have you been?"

Anger made my face flush as I pulled back and smacked him across the face. "You bastard!"

Nixon swept between us and thrust me behind him. "Enough! What the Fuck is wrong with you two!?"

We both bored seething holes into the others faces. I was surprised Nixon didn't spontaneously combust from the sheer amount of animosity in the air.

Speirs eyes narrowed to slits and I saw the devil return in him. His fingers clenched around the letter once more before he stuffed the letter in my face and stormed off.

My fingers sank over the damp paper and I let out a shaky breath.

"Thanks Nix."

The intelligence officer's hand gave my shoulder a slight rub. "You going to tell me what this is about or do I have to pry it out of him?"

"Its nothing you need to worry about Nix." I made my way out of the room but what he said next stopped me in my tracks.

"You two should just fuck already, that'd clean everything up."

My head snapped back and I looked at him with a mix of fury and embarrassment.

"Hell the sexual tension is noticeable enough; we don't need you two getting in spats on the street." He poured himself another glass. "I'd get on that if I were you."

I snarled at him and walked away. Were Speirs and my conflicts so obvious? Did the men think we were gay or had the guessed? Some of them had notions by now for sure.

I rolled down the streets, eying the street light signs until I came upon one with three pine trees. I pulled open the door and walked into the noise.

Squad upon squad had packed themselves into the small tavern, mixing with a few German patrons. The GI's gulped down lager with gusto and as I looked about I could tell they had been at it for a while now. I wished I had their sensibilities; it would have made this whole mess a lot cleaner. I made my way toward the counter to buy my own drink when an intoxicated Cobb crashed into me. I stumbled into the nearest patron, my elbow colliding dead on with his face. "Ah shit! I'm sorry."

The German man gave me a dirty look obviously not understanding and less than pleased about the pain in his face. He began to rise obviously seeing it as something to fight over. Hurriedly I motioned him back into his seat. "Let me buy you a drink." I clapped him on the shoulder, then motioned to the bartender and he poured two shots of what the man had been drinking. The man settled down almost immediately. Free alcohol always soothed offended nerves.

I grasped the small shot with slight unease. The last time I drunk hard liquor ended poorly to say the least.

I shook my head to clear the memory then turned to the man. We saluted each other over our glasses and then poured back. The strong burn of alcohol seared my throat.

The man motioned for another and smiled at me. I got a better look at him now that I realized he was not going to try to beat my face in. I came to the conclusion he was quite young, in his early thirties maybe, with smoky blond hair and murky eyes. He must have been the youngest man in town; I wondered why he was not at war. Movement distracted me from my thoughts.

The man raised his glass and I mine, and we sucked down another round, and then another, we had become something of a joke for the men. Two enemies battling it out over a bottle of vodka.

After a while I couldn't even taste the vile stuff, I could only tell I was living because of the cool glass in my hand and the sear in my throat.

We left the bar supporting each other as we sang mismatched lyrics at the top of our lungs. "O tannenbomb" was the song of choice in honor of the bar. Well… he actually sang it, I just kept repeating 'o Christmas tree' as we stumbled down the road.

After a few streets my German counterpart left me and I played balance beam with the curb. I sang quietly under my breath. After turning down HQ Street, I teetered off the curb. The crinkle of breaking glass made me jump. As I neared a large store Nixon stepped over the broken frame into the street. The reek of alcohol between us could have intoxicated a horse.

I grinned loosely as he started at me and raised my finger to my lips. "I won't tell if you don't tell." Then like any good child, we sealed it with a pinky promise. We went our separate ways just as the MP's rolled onto the scene.

I stumbled into my lodging and crashed on the couch. I could hear a lone par of footsteps above me, which soon settled into the silence of the house.

My fingers played drunken hide and go seek with my pockets as I struggled to find them. Finally my fingers brushed the creased edge and I pulled out Speir's letter which I struggled to read without light.

_'My dearest Ronald_,' it read.'

_'I hope you have had a wonderful spring. It is cold here in England, which does little to improve my mood.' I'm not going to bother to relay the rest of the paragraph because I had little business reading it anyway. I skipped to the third and final block of text. _

_'I am sorry to inform you of this in such an impersonal fashion. I found however that I could not stand to call you about this, and I am eternally sorry. My first husband Peter was found alive not a week ago, and has returned to me in England. While it pains me to say this, for I love you very very much. His return makes our marriage void. Father Thomas has already declared it._

_It is unfortunate news, and I am very sorry. _

_I love you now and forever, _

_Susanna O'her _

I held the letter between shaking fingers and a wave of joy filled rushed over me. He could love me now.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_When the man walked away from me, he took my invulnerability with him. I stumbled forward into the camp, not bothering to hide the tears rolling down my face nor the shake of my shoulder. I passed a few men who had breeched farther into the camp and joined them as they stared into the long wooden barrack. The smell hit me and I retched. Ten time's worse then a sewer, it was like uncovering a mass burial pit. _

_I edged away from the door as a few men wondered out like zombies on feet that looked to large for their emancipated legs. In a rush I moved backwards arms crawling around my sides. My teeth clenched as I tried to keep from crying out. My rifle pounded into my back as I tripped and fell with a clatter against a barrack. I remained there, face pressed against the wood, trying to hide from the horrors of human nature._

_We stayed long after the medical battalion arrived and tried to sort out the pains of human suffering. The worst part of it came later, when we discovered our acts of humanity led to their death, when their stomachs ate themselves when they finished with our food. I would not be lying if I told you I was drowning in that camp, drowning beneath the weight of human souls. _

We returned to Struzelberg with darkness in our souls. We eyed the cowering citizens with contempt as they hid behind the safety of their locked doors. I stared at one family as my fellow soldiers filtered around me. 'You may be safe from us.' I told them with a glare. 'But your souls will rot in hell.' A shove in the back moved me forward.

Like many nights, sleep evaded me. But unlike most nights, I wasn't the only one. Malarkey and Babe had joined my midnight powwow. I could see the lone flicker of candle in their staring eyes. I closed mine in an attempt to berate my self to sleep, but the images of earlier today were too close at hand.

"Damn those Germans." I whispered through the darkness.

I could hear the Irishman readjusting himself in his bunk and saw the candlelight glinting off his eyes disappear. "There going to hell." His voice was bitter.

My return came in the same tone. "I want to know why the people went along with it. Why the soldiers went along with it."

Babe joined and exited our conversation of hate with one sentence. "They do it because they were ordered too."

"Would you do_ that _if Eisenhower ordered _you_ to?" Malarkey snarled

I moved in my bunk, regretting that I started the conversation. "We kill people because our country tells us to."

"You kill other _soldiers_ not civilians. That has to be a difference."

I pressed my face into the stiff pillow and gave him a muffled reply and the voices fell silent. We lay amidst the sounds of sleep, pained because we could not join in their crescendos.

The door knob clicked as a hand turned it and bed springs groaned as three sets of bodies moved to get a better view. In the door frame a dark from was visible.

"Russo. Come with me."

My heart rushed in an uneven tattoo as my breath caught in my throat. I reached for my boots but Speirs quiet voice cut through the darkness. "Forget them, just come." With that he turned and made his way down the hall.

I climbed from my bed and waltzed across the room a mix of anticipation and loathing. Malarkeys spoke just as my hand found the door knob. "You're just going to go with him?"

"He told me to." The words sounded stupid even to me.

"Be careful. He won't look out for you like we do."

I closed my eyes and thought about my broken heart, and my broken body. "I know." I pulled the door closed and made my way to the stairs. Toes curling around the top step I played with the idea of turning back around. It was a fleeting thought, never to be acted out, I knew that was obvious. I took a step into the darkness.

I couldn't find him admits the sleeping masses on the main floor so I ducked out into the street. My bare feet tingled as they came in contact with cold stone. "Speirs?"

He turned and stared at me from where he sat on the brick railing of the porch. "Yesterday shouldn't have happened."

I knew that was the closest thing to an apology I would get out of him and I accepted it with a nod. I jerked my head in part of a silent exchange and finally when he motioned to the spot beside him, I took it. As I eased myself down beside him, I could felt the skin of his hand against my own. Longing to wrap my fingers around his, I resisted, but only for a moment.

"Why do we always meet at night?" I tapped my fingers on the stone, the cold and close proximity to Speirs making me restless.

"Because I can't tell you that I love you during the day or When else can I tell you that I love you." He was so nonchalant, so careless.

I looked at my bare toes and couldn't resist the flush that came to my checks nor the yearn of my body. "You don't really mean that." I tried to keep the smile out of my voice, but I knew that I failed.

The hands slid apart and one arm came to rest upon my shoulders, tilting me closer. "Do I lie?"

"You do. You lie to the boys, I can tell when you do it, but they don't catch it."

"So you're saying I'm doing it now?"

I swallowed. "No, but you lied when you told me you loved her more."

I could hear the smirk in his words." I did love her. I was married to her, I had to love her. But she will never be what you are."

"and that is?" My voice sounded more incredulous than I meant.

His voice came out harsh from the darkness. "A soldier."

I jerked at his words, sorrow and rage erupting through my body. My throat got tight and I clenched my eyes shut with a snarl. "Is that all I am to you?!"

I could feel his flinch in the darkness and his hold on me tightened. "No, I'm saying that you're more than her to me. I'm saying that you're different then any of the women Easy men will marry. You've been here with us, you know what we've gone through, been through it yourself. That's makes you special." He drifted off in a strange silence.

My soul smoldered in tune with his. I let out my held breath, and tried to fight through the outlandish reason for his love. I would never assume it was the kind of love that would last throughout the decades, but it was all I had, and it was the kind of love I needed.

"Next time" I murmured. "Just tell your girl you love her."

I swallowed my misgivings as I wrapped my arms around his waist and drawled in the scent of his jacket. Trapped in the rough threads was the smoky smell of cigarette, bombshell, and rifle I knew would never dissipate, the salty smell of sweat and old blood, a calming reminder of ones beating heart, and finally there was the slight smell of grass that persisted the March weather. It as the smell of everything I knew in the 40's and had become the most calming mixture of scents I would ever encounter in my life.

I let out a breath, and he pulled me closer. "I love you."

I laughed a bit and turned my face up for a kiss. "That's a boy."

* * *

**First of can I say how sorry I am to have kept you waiting so long? I shipped this chapter of a month ago to my beta and promptly forgot about it. As I'm sure you can tell this is the unedited version, so please take it as it is and realize a cleaner version will be on its way eventually. I hope you all are doing well, Until next time!**

**-also reviews make me write faster (though it may not seem like it…) **

**P.S. A special sorry to PaperHeart. This deal of ours just doesn't seem to work does it? **


	22. Closer to the Edge

22)

"Hitler's dead."

"I know." I leaned back on the couch and looked at Luz, the rising sun making a halo around him and successfully blinding me.

I sat up, blinking hard, and pushed off the couch onto the loose gravel that covered the street the couch was resting on while the rest of 2nd platoon, who lazed about me on borrowed furniture that, erupted into strings of obscenity.

"How do you know already?" George protested as we worked our way over the barricaded path. "It's not fair! Nixon just told me! How could you know?"

George and I moved past the citizens of Struzelberg, ignoring them as they tried to clean their bombed out city. We didn't pay a mind to the men who played Beethoven nor the ragged children who stacked gritty bricks. The camp made us heartless to this population, not openly cruel, but we inwardly played with the idea of lashing out.

My mysterious smile only prompted more objections. I took a bit of pity on him, knowing he wanted to tell me what he knew in great detail, like a child who was proud of his schoolwork. "Why don't you tell me anyway?"

"What's the point?" He sighed. "I'm sure you know how he died, when he did it, and what he ate for breakfast."

I shrugged. "Well I can't tell you about breakfast, but did you know he poisoned his dog first to make sure his doctors weren't lying to him about the poison would do?"

"No, and I think your making that up. Hitler loved his damn dog."

I shrugged and waved to Nixon as we passed. I could see him roll his eyes and theatrically mouthed, "_Luz?_", as if I had switched men and had decided on George as my new flame. I gave him a bit of a look and returned into what Luz was saying.

"Fine, I don't care if you are a god damned fortune teller like Perconte insists I still know something you don't know!" He teased.

I grinned at him and put on my best impression of Genes accent, "An' that would be?"

"We're moving out." He grinned and I grinned. Then he gave me one of those conspirator glances and whispered. "But I wish I knew where."

I stared at the Three Tree pub sign and contemplated for a moment... "We're going to Berchtesgaden."

"You've got to be shitting me! We're going to the Eagles Nest!" I don't think I had ever seen him so exited. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and began to regret telling him.

"Well, it's my best guess."

He clapped me on the shoulder. "It's as good as any, and with your track record, it has to be true!" He let out a whoop and buzzed off, too exited to say a proper goodbye.

I grumbled to myself, angry to have been left in his dust. I shot a look back at the couch but my seat had already been taken.

I wasted a few moments in deliberation of my next move and finally made my way toward first platoon's 'home away from home'.

Pulling open the door, I glanced around inside and was surprised to find it all but deserted. The lone occupant was Shifty, who didn't as much as look towards me as I stepped inside.

"Hey, Shifty," I called.

He looked up from where he was sprawled, upon the homes lone couch, and gave a one handed wave, the other keeping his books page.

I walked over and edged myself onto the sofa, near the end with his feet and gave him a small smile. "Doc's still out then?"

A slow nod and the young mans eyes met mine. "He's been visiting that camp every morning." His fingers drummed on the books hard binding. "I don't know how he gets the will to do it."

My eyes fell down, and I started at the murky swirling pattern of the sofa. "I've never been sure how he ever manages to get up in the morning."

Shifty returned to the text "I guess that's something we all've had to figure out." He shifted the book and a small smile kreped onto my face when I read the title. Shifty would read the bible.

It was another fifteen minutes before Gene returned. I had just noticed him standing in the adjourning room when his quiet voice pierced our quiet conversation.

"Can I do somthin' for you Frank?"

I winced a little. Nothing good was going to happen when he dropped a nickname he had finally learned to tolerate.

I put on my best smile. 'Just here to talk Gene, wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten about me."

It wasn't until the elongated sigh passed his lips that I realized 'just wanted to talk' had become synonymous with 'I've got a problem'.

"Come on." He gave a desolate wave of the hand and made his way upstairs.

I traded a look with Shifty before making my way up the stairs. I followed the Doc into a child's bedroom. Teddy bears and other stuffed toys were strewn inharmoniously amid the soldiers gear. A handful of makeshift beds remained on the carpeted floor.

"Close the door, Fey."

I shut the door softly and took a few steps farther into the room. Gene had taken a seat on the bed and was busy pulling off his boots when I came to a stop in front of him.

"This sure is a warm welcome for an old friend." My snide remark broke the uneasy tension.

He dropped the worn leather to the floor and looked up. "Well forgive me Fey, I wasn't aware you was expecting so much from me. The next time you stop by I'll be sure to have a parade ready to go; I should even have enough time to plan a banquet with all the time between your visits."

I froze, lips stretching and compressing in a pained attempt to keep an interjection from escaping. "That was harsh."

His face said he didn't care.

Looking away, I eased myself down onto the floor and pulled a stuffed elephant from under a bandoleer.

"What's wrong Fey?" The usual concern had finally leaked back into his voice.

"Oh you know, getting stabbed in the heart by my friends."

That got a bit of a wince. "I'm sorry Fey, I didn't mean it. I'm just…tired."

I wrapped my hand around his and gave it a squeeze. "It's ok."

He pulled me to my feet and I took a seat next to him on the child's bed, I rolled the elephant over in my hands. "I've got some news Gene…"

"Oh God your not _pregnant _are you?" He gave my shoulders a firm shake. "I can't deal with that! How do you expect me to fix that! What the hell Fey!"

Laughter bubbled forth and I shook his hands off. "Damn Gene, was that an overreaction or what? No you queer, I'm not pregnant. How the hell did that even pop into your Cajun mind?"

A firm blush attached itself to his face. "It's not my fault I expect the worse, specially when you hang around with who you do."

"You mean Speirs?" I gave him a firm look. "There's nothing going on between us, you here me. Nothing."

He shook his head. "You keep telling yourself that." He paused for a moment and gave me a crocodile smile. "At least tell me you're using protection."

"Gene!" I smacked him and jumped up. "I don't need that from you of all people!"

He laughed and pulled me back down. "Now really, what is it you wanna tell me?"

"Hitler's dead." I pulled my foot up and brushed some dirt from my boot, trying to hide the fact I had other things on my mind.

He gave a slow nod, "So I've heard."

"Oh?"

"The surgeon at the camp, said it was too bad we couldn't make him live in there a few months."

"Oh." I had never thought of that before. It would be fitting, giving Hitler a taste of his own medicine.

Gene gave me a hard look. "What are you gonna do?"

The hair on the back of my neck shot up and my tone hardened. "What do you mean what am I going to do?"

He stood up and wandered to the window. "Hitler's dead, the war's ending…you can't pretend to be a man forever. What are you going to do?"

I leapt to my feet, the stuffed elephant dropping unceremoniously to the floor. "I'm Frankie, Gene. I always will be to these men, they don't need to know any different. You hear me!"

He turned around and held his hands up in an appeasing manner. "I didn't mean nothin' by it Fey, just asking."

"Well don't ask. Don't even think about it." I slunk over to the door and yanked it open. "_Don't even think about it_."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

My feet were propped up on sandbags as I watch the setting sun. A tilt of the head and my entire view of the world would change, all depending on the dull brown boots that framed my evening entertainment. Smoke snaked off the light cigarette beside me, and the rifle that laid lazily atop my thighs bit into my forearms. The sky itself turned a murky orange as the sun made its last few inches past the horizon. A flying ember as Babe chucked his dwindling cigarette to the side, eyes never leaving the setting sun as his fingers brushed against the shell of my ear as he claimed the smoke I had placed there earlier in the day. The easily placed flick of a Zippo and the sincerity of the mood dwindled into nothingness.

My mind once again returned to my position in the watch post that we had erected outside Struzelberg all those days ago. I returned my gaze to the road that ran into the German town and asked, "Why are we even here?"

Babe's humor was in full force tonight when he responded, "You mean 'Here' as in where we are right now or 'Here' as in this town, or Germany, Or Europe.

I gave him an evil eye and he just shook his head. "_Here._"

He smirked. "I was thinking you were a smart one Frankie, I really did."

I shrugged. "Just forget it Babe, I forgot that I have to save philosophical talks for Roe and Nixon."

"No, you mean griping. You gripe with Roe and Nixon, you just do it in such a way that makes them think you're have some sort of in depth conversation, which is why the Captain bitches along with you because he doesn't know he's doing it. Now if you bitched liked an actual soldier then Nixon wouldn't complain with you, cause face it, bitching always goes up, never down."

I gave him a bit of a smile. "And here I was thinking you weren't fit for a philosophical conversation, I'm impressed Babe, that just the kind of shit I'd expect myself to spew."

We paused for a moment as an older couple walked by, making they way back into the town. Babe let out a breath of ash.

"Whatever you say, Professor."

It was a few hours from midnight when our relief finally came. Babe and I had been yawning since eight, and though I had plans to find my bed I should have known better.

With an eerie sense of timing, Speirs walked out of company HQ just as I passed by. There was little surprise on his face when our eyes met, which only made me suspicious. "Evening Sir."

He fell into step beside me. "You could just call me Ron." The remainder of that sentence didn't need to be said but it still flashed through my mind '_since were like dating and stuff'_

I smiled as I shook my head. "No, not till this whole ordeal is over." Yet my hand found his in the darkness. I could feel our forearms brushing together despite the hefty cloth of the jacket.

"Speirs…" My voice sounded alien, feminine in this story of testosterone.

He pulled me up the steps of a half bombed house that resided near the center of town, but oddly askew from the rest of the company. The doorknob stared at our entwined hands, the sooty glow of a gas streetlamp lighting the scene. For a moment, I felt like we were in an old Sherlock Holmes Flick. I almost expected a horse drawn cab to come clattering down the streets, but instead found myself inside the building.

I could feel the pulse in my throat as the door clicked shut behind us. For a moment, his lips touched mine, his shoulder steady and sure beneath my hand. But then he pulled away and placed his palm on my hip, and slowly ever so slowly he led me in a dance across the dusty, rock strewn floor, humming a tune as we swayed. I rested my cheek against his chest and contemplated our clasped hands, the same two that had connected at Head Quarters.

I felt those words slip out of my mouth, those three words that he had exposed so many times himself but I never had the courage to say. They didn't flit from my mouth in that playful tone that Speirs had used before, but were instead said in that horrible soul exposing murmur. "_I love you_."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The thinning atmosphere did little to curb the excitement that was rushing through the ranks. The song being sung collectively over the roar of a dozen trucks only grew louder in time, the possibility of finally reaching the end becoming just as obtainable as the bullets in our guns. The higher we climb the mountain, the harder it was to escape the undertow of joy, and the harder it was to press onward. It was not fatigue of our bodies that prohibited out movement but the last attempt of Hitler's SS to deter us. However, despite their leader's orders to fight to the last man, most of the SS disbanded. Their final ditch effort had been laid down days ago, and did its job of keeping us out, if only until our Engineers' got here. As morning slowly passed, a large pile of rock and dirt remained in the middle of the road, despite the few men's effort with a bazooka.

We had exited the trucks with a sigh of relief. Repeated sittings on those hard wood benches never went to make the trip any better, seeing as they did not softened under the weight of a thousand asses. After a few minutes on the ground we settled into a sprawling mass and went about sunning ourselves in the gorgeous summer sun.

But at Luz would always say gorgeous is only a few letters short of Georgeous and The Gorgeous Georgeous went about making himself a right nuisance.

To start the day off, the stupid idiot had challenged Babe Heffron to a dance off.

It was well known in the company that Babe was an avid swing dancer. Probably one of the best you will ever lay eyes on. But George on the other hand…wouldn't let that rest. He had to see it for himself.

It all started when Luz claimed he knew a dance that nobody else did. Babe challenged this, told Luz to either admit his bluff or prove it. Luz acted just as expected. He put his hands on hips, pulled a face, and then pointed right at me.

"Frankie dance with me."

I looked up from my doodle pad and stared him straight in the eye. "No."

The man let out a note of pure anguish that I wound not possibly have expected to hear from one of his demeanor.

"Wow." I eyed him with a mix of admiration and pity. "That was rather impressive. Y'know I haven't heard a sound like that since Mr. McKeary ran over my grandmothers Papillion."

That sent the boys into an uproar of laughter. I don't think I have ever seen George so red in the face.

"I never did like you. Always making jokes at other peoples expenses, you bastard you won't even dance with me!"

I shrugged. "Well I'm sorry George; I save that for the ladies."

His face contorted for a moment, as if he were about to explode with some life altering secret, then he settled. "Just humor me ok?"

I sighed shoved my things into my bag. "Only for a minute."

He pulled me to my feet, snagged my hand in one of his, held it up, and places his other on my hip. "You be the lady."

My whole face burned red. "No."

"Well you are." He started moving and I awkwardly followed along. The other guys found this whole interaction immensely hilarious and were laughing like drunken chimpanzees.

"You are the worst dancer." George gave me a push in the right direction.

I scowled, "Well, maybe you'll think next time before you choose a partner. Perco would have been a good match. He's sorter then you, and actually knows how to swing dance."

"Damnit Frankie! You don't even know how to dance?"

"Sure I do," I allowed myself to be spun around, "If I'm in a New York club."

"Don't they swing in New York?" He dipped me over backwards.

I grinned at George and gave a wink. "Well let's just say my clubs are a bit more… umm risqué then that."

He found my declaration so astounding that he literally froze and gaped at me mid spin. "What?"

I took the opportunity to meringue my way away from him. However, George would not let up. He plowed his way over and loomed in all of his 5'5 glory over me. "Are you serious?"

My eyebrows rose and I gave him a smirk, leading him on for the hell of it. "Sure George, like I said…." My sentence was cut off.

"**I want Easy Company ready to move in five**!" Speirs roared

. I was struck dumb for a moment upon hearing this, he sounded happy. Too happy. I glanced at the pile of rubble that blocked our way, then up at the buildings that could barely be viewed from below. They must have found another way up there, and Speirs was obviously in the lead.

We all barreled back into the trucks and watched as Major Winters's jeep sped by us before drove down the mountain, segwaying onto the Audubon, and tearing our way toward Berteschgarten.

Yelling at Malarkey over the roar of the wind I asked," What the hell has got them moving so fast? The 'Garten's not going anywhere!"

The Irishman called back, "I heard were in a race with some French company, apparently this general wants to capture both Paris and Hitler's palace."

Just out side the gates we disembarked from the trucks and marched our way inside. Heads held high, guns resting in the cook of our arm; we were the dirtiest, fiercest sons of bitches to ever enter through those gates.

Inside there was no life was to be found, the SS had completely deserted the town and you could tell. The stylish brick faces buildings left in solitude except for the swaying white flags that adorned almost every flagpole. Sheets of paper tumbled through the paved streets, and it seemed void of almost any Nazi presence. But then we hit Berchtestgarten Court. The hotel like building proudly supported billowing red banners, smugly supported swastikas, and near impeccable shrubbery.

Nixon, Winters, Speirs and Welsh, slowly drifted inside, followed by half of the company. I spun slowly around as I walked, trying to absorb the brilliance of the building, from the wooden paneled walls to the stunning carvings, and bronze busts. Hitler's Nazis sure did know how to decorate a place.

It was then I noticed the stair case.

"George!" I called, not bothering to look around for him. "Come on."

He appeared by my shoulder, a vase clutched under his arm. "I'll beat you there." He challenged, then took off up the steps.

I followed close behind climbing the curving stair case at an unusual pace, rubber soled boots sending echoing chaos into the air as they came down upon the stone steps.

We split up at the landing, each heading out own separate ways, I pulled open a heavy wooden door and found myself staring down a door lined hallway. Half way down a light sputtered.

My hand found the knob of the first door, but it jiggles uselessly. I swung my rifle off my shoulder and held it in my left hand, then jammed my right shoulder against the door. Finally after four hits the door swung in. I was greeted by darkness. I reached inside, my hand brushing the wall for a light switch. When the light blazed forth, I found the room to be lacking.

There was a bed, dressers, a few plush chairs, and a door I imagined led into a closes, and another to the bathroom. Not to mention, the obligatory painting of Hitler on the wall. The Fuher and I regarded each other with stony eyes. Flicking my middle finger, I turned away, eyes landing on the dresser top. A crystal elephant the size of my hand sat on the flat surface, along with what could only be a jewelry box.

I grabbed a pillow from the bed and stripped it of its covering. Despite the speed of my movement, I did not fail to notice the swastikas embroidered up the sleeve. My fingers closed around the cool stone glass object and I held it to my eyes. It had jade eyes, and tusks of real ivory…even in war people still retained expensive tastes. It slid down the fabric and landed within the confines with a soft thump. I pulled the jewelry box toward me, and marveled at the mother of pearl inlay. Standing still I regarded the inscribed name then flicked the top open. A menagerie of rings lay upon the first layer, each coddled in their own velvet bed. I plucked them from their resting spots and dropped them into the pillow case. A few struck the elephant with a resonating _ping_. Bracelets, necklaces, earrings and broaches found the same end.

With a satisfied smile I knotted the pillowcase, knowing full well the next time I opened it it would find a rats nest of gold and silver.

I could hear muffled footsteps coming down the hallway and by the sound they stopped outside my door. "You find anything yet?" I called without looking up. Hearing the sliding click of a readying weapon, I turned toward the door and was greeted by a flash of fire. (AN: PARTICIPIAL PHRASE BITCH!)

I stumbled back, bag dropping from useless fingers; it hit the floor with a crunch of metal. My wounded side careened into the bed post, pain sending the air from my lungs. My knees gave in just as a second shot rang out, hardly giving my brain enough time to ready itself for the ending of my life.

The seconds ticked by.

I forced my eyes open, as a lifeless body dropped to the floor. The SS officers gore-covered head regarded me from just inside the door. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, and not to vomit, and to force air into my struggling lungs.

I could feel a persistent wetness leaking through my jacket, and could sense the gore leaking down my torso. I pressed my right hand to the sopping hole in my jacket and tried to keep from careening forward. Fluttering against my hand, my heart pounded in time with the rush of footsteps and loud voices that were approaching. I leaned against the wooden headboard and let out a moan.

Finally mouth tearing open in a hysterical cry. "GENE! GENE!"

Oddly enough it was Nixon who reached me first. Nixon whose arms I fell into and Nixon who gently laid me on the carpeted floor as the rest of the men piled in, stepping on the dead German without a glance in his direction.

"No…" I moaned, eyes clenching against the view their concerned faced.

Nix however did not like this and gave my good shoulder a shake. "Stay with us."

"I'm not going anywhere." My eyes peeled open following my surly retort.

I had not noticed that the Captain's hand had come to cover my own.

"**Where's that medic!**" Nixon roared just as Gene struggled through the crowd that crowded the door.

"I'm here." He elbowed Nixon out of the way, and I closed my eyes again, feeling the tears that leaked down my face.

"I made it so far Gene."

His hands were too busy tearing my jacket off. "Anyone given her any morphine?"

"He's been shot in the heart Roe…" I felt the prick of the morphine needle in my thigh.

Gene sent a growl over his shoulder. "Don't you guys have somewhere to be? I don't want any more Germans blowing holes in _your_ hearts."

Nixon knelt behind Gene and seemed to be doing the best he could to keep the soldiers eyes off me. "Doc's right, I want a through search done, and I want it done now." The glare he mustered sent them scattering despite their obvious wishes to remain. George Luz however remained fixed in the doorway.

"I'm not leaving her." His voice was solid, even above the rush of footsteps and kicked in doors.

My eyes scrunched together as Gene pressed Nixon's hand to my wound.

"Keep it there." He ordered the Captain before digging around in his bag. "If you're staying Luz, then help us out."

The spine tingling sensation of thin metal ran up my side as Doc's scissors sliced through my T-shirt and bra. Nixon grabbed hold of my bloody right hand and held it tight, whispering gently to me.

I let out a grunt of pain as Gene probed the slit flesh under my arm, just above where the band of my bra sat.

"You're lucky it didn't hit your heart Fey."

The morphine had yet to be much help and I struggled to comprehend his words through the pain of his fingers stretching my skin, and put together a logical question.

"Can you fix it?"

There was a pause in his movement. "…I think so."

There was the ruffle of fabric as Roe turned to Luz. "I need you to clear out the kitchen and get a pot of water boiling."

Gene gave my hand a squeeze and I forced my eyes open. "I'll see you down there." He promised before bolting off.

Roe stripped a pillow of its cover and pressed it to my side, before zipping my jacket up once more to cover my femininity.

"Alright Fey." He crouched above me and pulled me to my feet. My good arm went around his shoulder and his fit under wounded side and held the pillowcase to the wound through the jacket. Nixon positioned himself on my bad side and we slowly made our way to the door.

"Wait!" I huffed, "Get my stuff."

They didn't stop to get it and just helped me over my attacker's body. "It will still be here."

They half carried me down the hallway and we stumbled our way down the staircase, Major Winters watching our every move.

"Everything alright?" He made his way over to help but Nixon waved him off.

"Don't worry about it Dick, It's nothing we can't handle. Right Russo?"

I gave a jerking nod trying to keep my face from contorting into a mask of pain. "Right sir." I wheezed. 'Nothing we can't handle."

As we stumbled into the kitchen, I prayed the morphine would take hold.

George had made good on the Doc's orders and a pot of boiling water greeted us, as well as a few unrequested bottles of alcohol. George gave us a wavering smile and nervously patted the prepping table.

"It's all ready for you."

"Thanks Luz." Gene grunted as he and Nixon boosted me onto the table and eased me down.

"Gene…" I whined, over a spinning head.

"Take it easy, Fey." He ordered as he unzipped my jacket and pulled it off. He then stripped the pillowcase away and threw the bloody cloth to the floor. Then covered what little there was of my breasts with a hand towels. For proprieties sake.

He grabbed some more hand towns and dipped them in the boiling water before smudging away under my arm, trying to get a clean view. "What I need you to do Fey is just stay still. Don't move, just stay awake, and I'll have Luz start you on some plasma as Nixon and I get this sewn up." He held the cloth to the slash and showed Luz how to fix the needle in my arm. "Fey has that Morphine started working yet."

I let my eyes close a bit, trying to sort out what my body was feeling. "Somewhat."

"Good enough." He grabbed his sewing kit and dipped them in the boiling water.

A cool glass was held to my lips and an arm tilted my head up. "Drink it Fey."

I sputtered and gagged as the harsh alcohol burned my throat. I should have known better then to accept a drink offered from Lewis Nixon.

Gene positioned his needle and thread and took a deep breath. "Hold her down."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Slowly vision returned to my dim eyes. Despite the amount of liquor Nixon ended up pouring down my throat I could still feel the vicious ache in my side and back. My fingers twitched against cool leather and I slowly pulled me head off from what I was resting on. Distant movement was Nixon was browsing through the hotels guest book while Major Winters whispered fast words by his side, eyes darting around the main room only to come and land on me, before they took off again.

I tilted to one side of the leather chair and a hand came to steady my dissent. "Easy there."

Speirs pulled me back toward him and eased my head back onto his lap. "How are you feeling?"

"You can't possibly be comfortable sitting like that." My voice was thick but what I said was true. He was half seated on the thick wooden armrest, half off.

His fingers ran through my hair and I let out an appreciative purr.

"I'm glad that morphine finally started to work. They could probably hear you shrieking in the States."

I smiled a bit. "You didn't answer my question."

"And you didn't answer mine."

I closed my eyes and let him pet my short hair. "Touché."

I had half succumbed to morphine and alcohol induced snooze when a spark lit my brain afire.

"Speirs."

"Yes Fey?" His fingers ran over the edge of my ear.

"The secrets out isn't it?"

For a minute he didn't answer. "Winters knows. Most the men who were in the building do. Like I said you were screaming pretty loud. Just go to sleep Fey, Nixon will take care of it."

My body seemed to agree with his assessment and I drifted off.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Its time to get up, Russo." The voice was gentle, yet commanding, something that would send many women into states of sexual bliss. A few years prior I may have fallen among those ranks, the times however had changed me.

Through blurry eyes, I could tell it was Winters who stood before me. No other man had such a surprising head of red hair.

I pushed myself to my feet with a groan, wobbling slightly after having been out for so long. His hand found my upper arm and steadied me.

"Where to, sir?" Long ago, I had realized the importance of listening to the man, questions about why were no longer necessary.

The deep sea eyes flicked my way, the lanky body already moving off. "The Colonels' coming through, get your stuff, and look lively."

Without as much as a dismissal I booked it out of there.

I was gasping by the time I got to the bloodied room, even after four hours, the brain blown officer still lay prostrate in the doorway. The smell of blood and insides never meant to see the light of day was astounding.

Stepping over him with still lungs, I entered the room to find my things just as they had been that morning. Backpack and rifle relaxing where I propped them before snatching the crystal elephant. The half filled pillowcase sat blood splattered on the floor, much like candy bags from past Halloweens. Only this time, I surmised, the prize was much greater.

My left arm held tight to my side, I tipped forward and snagged that candy bag before thrusting it into my knapsack, which I then swung onto my good shoulder and pulled the lesser weight of the gun onto my left.

The man in the doorway would become my last adversary. Some would quote it poetic; the struggle between officer and enlisted man, General vs. PFC. They would see it as a lowly plow horse rising against the hand that held its reign.

But for me, and maybe a few of the other men, this German would have enacted the last chessboard move of violence made by the German Army that was directed at Easy Company. He would attempt to take out the Queen and fail.

Out in the hallway, I pressed myself against the wall in order for Sink and his lot to brush by. Over the last few hours, he had managed to wrangle a group of higher ups from nearby battalions and was busy boasting his prize. A few of these aforementioned men regarded me as others would a rat.

I suppose I did stand out from the majority of paratroopers in their cleanish outfits. My own having obtained the look of one returning from a short yet harsh campaign.

It shortly after, that Sink came upon the last German Chess piece, His eyes flicked toward me, mustache dusting as his lips formed words.

"You kill this man soldier?"

Winters stared me down from among the mass.

Our eyes met and something inside me snapped, cold fury laced my bones, and I felt my own eyes obtain that empty fervor most often seen in Speirs during sieges. My head tilted back, helmet sending shadows deep into my eye sockets.

"He fell by his own hand." The mouth was set in a solid line. "Unfortunate thing about Lugers sir…They're faulty."

The colonel made a face in-between disgust and pleasure, "No wonder this war is over, a Kraut general scared of a raggedy assed private." He turned away from the messy scene and led them further down the hallway. As I moved toward the stairs I could feel Winters's eyes boring into my back.

**As always, sorry for the wait, the end of the school year really takes a lot outta me. So have a late night D-Day post. Which apparently is actually Day-Day… so it is really the day of days. Awkward huh? Also a big thanks to everyone who ever reviewed this or favorite it. It really means a lot to me! -Hansi**


	23. My Dear Country

**AN- There is a bit of sex within this chapter, it is separated with******, if you don't like, skip that section, thought I do suggest skimming the last 3 lines. It is to your benefit. **

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

The great room of Hotel Nazi was a myriad of activity; Sink had not only brought his Head Quarters to Berchestgarten but also had proclaimed the division's newest objective.

The Screaming Eagles turned their eyes toward their enemies nest.

I stumbled past office aids scanning the crowd for a familiar face. A punch in the shoulder ended my search, and a grinning Perconte stood on my right. Through the hole in his breast pocket, I could view the sprawled bristles of his much used toothbrush. Hell if he would go to war and get a cavity. Then again we all had our little quirks…

"Damn Frank, get your ass in gear," He chided, "Lipton told me to find you a half hour ago, don't you know we have orders to move?"

His prompting led us to the door. I made an effort to hold my left arm still as we traveled down the front steps. "Can't say I did Perco, been a bit under the weather y'know?"

The small man's eyes flicked over my way and his lips pursed. "I heard."

Unease slithered into my gut with his ominous words. "Is that right?" I swallowed.

For the first time since I had been hit the realization that there was more to this equation then just the officers struck home. I also had to worry about the men.

Lipton motioned us onto a truck and regarded us with a critical yet mothering eye, "You boys have enough ammo?"

George wormed his way beside me, "I don't know Lip, do you think five clips are enough to take an empty building?" He motioned to the bandoliers on his belt.

The Lieutenants lips pressed together momentarily and he gave a small shake of the head, forever the child humoring mother. "Just wait until that mouth of yours gets you into trouble."

Then the trucks roared to life and Lipton joined Speirs in the officer's jeep, before they led the mad dash up to the Eagles Nest.

The ride up the mountain was a humorous affair, each man exuding his own brand of joy, knowing more than ever the war was over. However, tucked in between a half gone Roe and a possessive Luz, I cannot say I was feeling the same sense of ecstasy.

My insides twisted with each yard of gained altitude, the constant jostling of the trucks caused an unending pain in my side, and the other men had begun to relay their knowledge of my latest development. Their stares had become too numerous, filled with too much attention.

In a world where intense gazes were limited to patrols and the lover's bed, I knew my shit had sunk. I pressed my eyelids together and took a deep breath. They will not sell me out. They couldn't.

Luz's fingers wrapped around my own, our hands hidden by close touching legs. He turned his head to the sky and let loose a chord of the paratroopers theme, and men from our truck and others joined in. "Zig zam godamn, we're Airborne Infantry."

We spilled into the gate of the Eagles nest, like tourists into Disney. Rambunctious we looked around, hands touching everything from books to the wall. Our many voices echoed around the building but could not warm then the eerie stillness.

I split away from the group and nestled down in a seating cranny, feeling my wound and my condition more than ever. Roe appeared at my side, ever the wary medic.

"You feeling ok?"

My shrug was a bit despondent. "Like shit…the wound and…I'm starting to feel the hangover." I gave him a lackluster smile.

His hand rubbed at the shadowy hair at the base of his neck. "You know Nixon, man thinks alcohol fixes everything. With that and the morphine wearing off, you're going to be feeling the effects of the wound and I would give you more but…"

There was always a but. "It's fine Gene. Save it for someone who really needs it."

He took my refusal well enough, after suffering such a morphine drought during Bastogne, he couldn't help but hoard it. Mentally, he couldn't overreach that fear.

"Alright but if you change your mind…" He felt obligated to offer, but that crave to have more was obvious to us both.

"I'll find you." The promise was a weak one. We both knew I wouldn't.

The seconds ticked by, and he was clamoring for an escape, curiosity tugging his attention to the rest of the Nest.

I clapped him on the shoulder and pointed down the hallway in which many of the other men disappeared. "Go find yourself something nice."

He shook his head and stood. "If you insist." He gave me one last look and a short goodbye, before sauntering off.

Afternoon was slowly passing, and I had moved at Welsh's suggestion, to a more deserted part of the compound, one where no HQ passerby would notice my inactivity and question as to why I was not in the Doctors care. Christenson had stopped by and dropped off some novels for my entertainment, whether it was by his own discretion or orders of another I never knew, but the action served to remind that the players were still in my court. All I had to do was keep them there.

When a hand shook me back into reality from the safety of _Gone with the Wind_, I couldn't help but flinch away from warm brown eyes that were far too close to my own. Lipton pulled away as well, probably worried about knocking our heads together. We gave each other a humored grin and exchanged pleasantries.

I couldn't help but notice mine came a little offhand but the man I sometimes viewed as a surrogate mother took it in stride.

"Battalion mess has set up in the kitchens, I want you to go get something to eat, and then go to the room you've been assigned, stay there until I come for you tonight, Winters wants to clear this thing up." He twitched a bit at the directness of his speech but kept a steady face. He didn't like this ordeal any more than I did.

My throat tightened a little bit, uneasy at the thought of having to speak so personally with the Major. I couldn't help but share my fears with the man. "How do you think Major Winters is taking it?"

Lipton paused for a moment, slipping into the more comfortable role of comforting. "Well enough I suppose, no ones been mentioning it, so I can't give you a clear answer. Captain Nixon seems to have nipped his disbelief early on, so you're probably not going to encounter anything associated with that. He'll probably accept what you've done, but not why you've done it." He put a light hand on my good shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, I know a lot of people are in your corner."

I brushed at my eyes, trying to drive back the wetness in them. "Thanks Lip, it means a lot."

He gave a firmer tap and stood up. "Go get your supper; I'll come for you later tonight."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I had settled down for the night in a room with Luz and Malarkey, both having been deemed suitable companions by the higher ups, thought I can't sink the suspicion that Speirs rallied to have me as his bed partner. The rest of our squad, those who may or may not have known, resided in Hitler's guest rooms to either side of us.

Malark and I had taken the bed, and the Irishman had already drifted off into a fitful sleep. George laid in one of the lounging chairs often seen in bedrooms of the Victorian upper class, and movies involving queens.

Luz had taken the first of our rooms watches, Malark would take the next, and I as the wounded party would be skipped over, and the job would be passed on to the awaiting men. It seemed odd to me however to watch one of the most secure places in Europe, but then again, they never promoted me anyway.

It was nearing eleven when Lipton came for me. Slowly opening the door, he regaled Luz and my looks with a smile.

"Winters wants to talk to you now."

My heart started pounding as I slipped out from under the covers and pulled on my jacket and boots

We traveled down the silent halls, speaking in quick whispers. I tried to get a hold of any developments I was not yet aware of. And Lipton tried to keep me calm.

We came to a stop outside a pair of double doors and Lipton took a moment to tug my outfit into a more respectable state. Truthfully, I didn't know why he even tried, it's not like Winters hasn't seen blood and wrinkles before, and nonetheless I appreciated the gesture.

"You'll be fine." Lipton said as I took a deep breath to try and open the tightness in my chest.

"Okay." I wheezed. He pulled open the door and I stepped inside.

My first act was to pull off a snappy salute, the action felt odd for one did not use such indications of rank in combat and with one arm clenched tight to my ribs, and I couldn't help but feel lopsided.

Winters had me hold that pose for a moment longer that I deemed necessary. His nod and brief flash of hand above the eyebrow allowed me to stand at attention.

"Good evening Miss…?" Winter's voice was frosty and his eyes were tired.

"Russo, Sir." I reaffirmed, hoping the familiarity would sooth him some.

"At ease Russo, take a seat. Have you gotten any morphine from Doc Roe recently?"

I approached his desk and easy myself into a padded arm chair. My body protested the activities of the past day and I couldn't hold in my sigh. "No sir. Told him I didn't want it." My lips felt tight as I talked, face taut with the pain of a gunshot wound. Not something to be taken lightly.

Frowning deeper despite attempts to ease it, Winters moved his eyes from my body. "We'll keep this short."

"Thank you sir."

The red head adjusted some papers before him and picked up a pen. "Your name?"

"Fey Annett Russo, age 19, born January 19th…"

He scrawled it all down and sipped at a cup of coffee an hour cold.

"Why did you sneak into the army?"

"My brother Antoine." Alright so that wasn't _too_ much of a lie." I couldn't stand to see him gone, he's all I have." Sorry mom and dad, you'll only complicate things…

"He knew you joined?" Winters sounded a bit disgruntled, obviously thinking how he would react to one of his sisters joining the army.

I shook my head, "No, I joined a week after he started BT. Antoine found out later when we went to Taccoa for our jump wings. We were both with the 82nd, and that lasted until shortly before Market Garden…"

The major's hand must have been cramping because he put down his pen and leaned onto the desk.

"Nixon knew you were a woman before this morning, Is there anyone else?"

I leaned back and closed my eyes, taking another moment to organize my thoughts. "Buck…Lieutenant Compton's known since D-Day, we met shortly after landing. Doc Roe, Captain Nixon, although I think he's been in denial of the whole thing. Luz figured it out along the way, and…" I swallowed, "Captain Speirs."

Winters blue eyes sparked a bit and he corners of his mouth twitched up. "You two always were close."

I waited for him to continue, accuse me of seducing his men, causing distractions within the rank, of being a whore. None of it came.

"Is there anything else sir?" I had given up on caring, all I wanted was to go lay down.

Sighing, Winters rubbed his eyes, "There is a lot more, Private. Protocol points to a court marshal."

My breath escaped me at a stutter, and my heart beat hard enough to feel it in the pulse of my throat.

My hands shook as if I had the palsy. "But you cant…"

His eyes told me otherwise. His hand wrapped around the porcelain cup, and swirled the liquid inside. I could see the dirt that resided along the edges of his nails. I knew from experience that that kind of dirt never quite washed off.

Winters looked down at the paper and picked up his pen. The tip hovered a few millimeters above the white surface before coming down. He drew a square, and shaded the inside. "You've always been a good soldier Russo, careful, obedient, protective of your squad mates," he smiled, amused at some memory, "Even commanding officers."

Crumpling the report, he pushed it into a trashcan and stood. "Get out of here Russo; I want to sleep sometime tonight."

I rushed from the room after we shared one final, necessary, locking of eyes. Winters was a man who needed that final reaffirmation, innately, I wished he didn't.

Lipton who I'm sure had stood staunchly through Winters and I's exchange, found himself in conversation with Lt. Welsh. Both looked over as I came out, curiosity rabid on both their faces. One could assume my relieved features and easy action did a good enough job to display the outcome.

Welsh however, who seemed slightly drunk, voiced the questions.

"Are we still allowed to call your Private, Private?"

"Yessir." I nodded in return.

"Good," He shrugged, "Easy's name doesn't need to be soiled by that kind of bullshit."

Lipton jumped into the conversation and put a steadying hand on Welsh's shoulder.

"What he means is your worth more than that."

The little Irish man nodded and I gave a tired smile.

"Thanks sir." I moved my hand to gently cover my wound, "I'm really tired."

As I knew it would, Lipton's mothering jump started.

"Go to sleep Russo, and have Doc give you something for that in the morning."

"Yes sir." I replied dutifully. "Goodnight sirs."

Their fare the wells followed me into the darkness.

Navigating the seemingly endless corridors of Hitler's Eagles Nest proved to be a challenging feat. I walked past empty guestrooms, offices, two kitchens, and a linen closet that was actually filled with linens. Eventually I found my way back to the main floor and figured I could get back to my room from there.

However, a dull light spilling from one half opened double doors caught my sleepy interest. I trudged over and glanced inside.

I found Speirs, a book pulled from the library's numerace shelves, his eyebrows furrowed against the Germanic script.

"You finally got the big prize." My voice roved across the room and came to rest upon his shoulder.

Ron glanced up, his eyes retaining the harsh look of a conqueror, a smile came next. "That I did." The book snapped shut and he dropped it to the floor.

"There's a bigger prize still." He supplied.

I knew that look, that specific set of the mouth. My insides jumbled together and my smile deepened. I stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind me, carefully flicking the lock.

When I turned, his lips came down upon my neck. My fingers grappled against his loose jacket and pulled the fabric taut. I caught his mouth with my own and sucked hard on his lip. He returned in force, flushing my body up against the hard wooden doors with a soft thump. I should have known Speirs wouldn't allow me to play dominate.

The jostling pained my side and I let out a moan. He took it as a good sign and his hands rubbed down hips. I brushed my nails down his neck and kissed him hard before stripping the jacket from his arms. My fingers fumbled at the buttons of his button down shirt, while he did the most distracting things to my skin.

Speirs finally took it under his own incentive to strip and he shucked off his shirt.  
"About time." I sniped, his eyes met mine, and I could see the humor in them. It washed over me like a wave.

"I was thinking the same thing." His slender fingers went into action and he began my dressing down. Ron kissed my skin with each button undone, and I suddenly found myself glad I had the door to help keep me standing. I scoured his chest with my eyes, taut muscles and trim waist, along with subtle signs of semi starvation that resided in all of us soldiers.

Every nerve under my skin, buzzed in barely concealed anticipation. That dark and needy something was uncurling in my belly and spreading low. "Captain!" I breathed. He knew I was ready, but he wanted to play.

He sank to his knees as he finished the last button and his tongue made a stroke against my lower abdomen. I made a pitiful sound, and my hands rested on the top of his head, teasing through his hair, rubbing behind the shell of his ear, fingers sliding at the edge of his jaw.

He nipped my hip bone, and I had my ratty old bra off he even blinked. When he stared on my belt buckle, my knees gave out and I slid down the door with a thump. Then I pushed him back, wanting to show him that I would not play his slow games. That I wanted it now. My hands pushed down on his biceps and I straddled him, putting some good use to all the time I spent clubbing back in New York. I could feel his hardness as I rolled against his hips.

"Speirs," I teased as I kissed his chest. "I want you now."

He just grinned at me. "What about foreplay?"

I grinned back. "I want you _naked_ now."

I doubt there was any man who could say no to that proposition.

Pulling off both of our high paratrooper boots took less than 30 seconds; I kissed him hard before I went for the pants.

"What would your mother think?" Ron whispered before he slid from under me and forced me to the ground. His hands made quick work of the button and my pants slid away.

My eyes scrunched a bit, "What she doesn't know won't kill her."

He grinned and cupped my breasts in his hands. "I like that."

"Thought you would." He pulled off my panties and that yearning monster reared its head. I wanted him now. We could play later.

My fingers sunk beneath the elastic of his boxers and wrap around his member.

"Now." I commanded after a series of stroked down his cock, a bit humored by how easy it was to turn a mans will to putty. "Play later, I want you now."

I pulled away the last bit of fabric between us and he took control once more, forcing me back, opening my hips, letting my calves brush against his sides. His calloused hands eased their way down my thighs before curving up my hips and down my ass cheeks.

Then his fingers found my center. Dipping inside the wetness. He smiled predatory at my bliss. His hand moved away, eyes met, as he pulled my hips to his, and he slid inside me.

I let out a small gasp of pain, it having been so long since I participated in that kind of activity.

After a number of subsequent thrusts came a question, "Will you marry me?"

Following hard drive I moaned, "Yes."

The dark beast sang inside me.

The next morning was rough. I woke up to the sound of a pounding fist, one of the other sergeants rousing us before sunup.

"Get up and get ready to move, we're heading out!"

To where I could not fathom but snuggled contently between two upstanding gents, in a nice fluffy bed, I did not want to go.

Malarkey however seemed to be in a different state of mind and kicked off the covers. "Come on get up." He yanked them away from George and I and made for his clothes.

"For crying out loud!" Luz complained. His fist met the pillow top of the mattress. "I get a nice bed and I can't even sleep in it!"

"That's right George." I buried my face into a pillow. "No nice things for you."

He swatted at my legs and wrapped his arms around me, dragging me off the bed as he tumbled off the side. We landed in a heap of curses and his laughter.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

We went to Austria, homeland of Herr Furher, ex Furher I suppose I should say.

It was a beautiful place, with enough mountains, and trees to make Currier and Ives blush. Outside our lodging was a lake, that sparkled like a thousand cut diamonds, the sky was forever a shade of soft blue, fluffy clouds spotted the atmosphere, but threatened no prolonged showers. And our lodgings, a commandeered hotel, looked like a bloody peppermint. It was beautiful. In its creamy white splendor, and rich red shutters. A castle out of a fairy tale. The place where I would be married.

Walking up the worn stone staircase to the grand entrance, I was struck by the beauty of the teal lake, and stopped to gaze at its splendor. A few men jostled me as they moved inside, but a larger number joined me on the terrace, and took in what we had been to busy to notice about Europe.

It's serene beauty.

After a few minutes I moved into the hotel and allowed myself to believe that the war was finally over.

For a short time military proceedings were forgotten, the men of Easy, massing about the hotel foyer and terrace with unbridled glee, as the higher ups tooled over sleeping arrangements and other important facts.

Its end however was swift. Speirs's head snapped up from where he was viewing the papers. "Sergeant Malarkey!"

Every head turned from where the voice came from to where Malark stood by Perconte.

"Yes Sir?" The Irish man seemed to b handling the attention well.

"Take your men and post them outside, make sure there are two by the motor pool, the others go where you see fit."

A nod, and a forward swipe of the hand called the Malarkey's men after him.

I made as to follow but a hand upon my shoulder held me back. Welsh. His lips parted and I received a gapey toothed smile. "Not today private, I don't care how good that morphine's making you feel.

I frowned a bit at that, but let it slide, the only thing one of my position could do. "Alright sir."

His hand slid from my shoulder and he shook his head before moving off. "Don't know how you did it Russo."

I sighed and glanced around. I always felt odd without my squad around. It was like an acute sense of home sickness, one where you know someone may die while you're not looking out for them.

A gentle smile from Shifty helped ease my ill feelings. He waved me over and I joined his group with a few short words they decided to go outside.

"Ain't this place just pretty as a picture?" Shift leaned on the balcony and gazed out over the lake.

"Simply gorgeous. If I didn't know I was living it, I'd swear this was a dream…or at least Friedrich painting."

The painters name seemed to loose him for a bit so I clarified. "Caspar David Friedrich, 19th century German landscape painter, made some stunning art."

"Oh." He frowned a bit. "Doesn't look anything like home."

I stared at the wide pained banister and thought of skyscrapers. "Not at all."

My eyes flicked across the road and locked onto the men on watch. I counted them, locking their positions into the front of my mind.

My side gave a dull ache and I eased down into a wooden lounging chair beside Christianson. Shifty sat down by my feet and fiddled with some dried leaves that had found themselves captured on the terrace.

"Have you heard from Lt. Compton recently?" Christianson suddenly asked out of the blue. "I heard talk that he was better, figured you would know."

My throat squeezed tight for a second. "No… I haven't gotten any mail from him since before the Camp." My stomach heaved with the memory. "He hasn't sent any letters." If any pain or anger leaked into my voice with that statement, then Christianson did his best not to notice it.

Shifty eased into the conversation and tired to take my mind off the disregard of Buck Compton.

"I don't quite know what it is Frankie, but officers seem to like you, with Nixon, Speirs and all."

I gave him a smile and glanced out at the men in their posts. "It's a skill I have."

"Mighty handy I'm sure." Shifty gave a nod.

I tapped my foot on his leg and regarded him through half lidded eyes. "It makes it hard to get away with things. If they like you, their more likely to look for you, subliminally like, it can make sneaking around difficult."

Cobb sneered from far away. "Not that sneaking was ever a problem for you."

I prickle immediately, though I tired not to be too angered by his words, failing to do so; we had all come to accept the fact 'jerk' was the only character setting Cobb had.

"Oh how so?" I growled.

His eyes narrowed along with his lips.

"Don't you two start fighting!" Christianson snapped. "War's over, Germans surrendered remember, just calm down."

I gave him a bit of a smile as Cobb swore under his breath. "Ok Mama."

"Hey!" He protested. "You know that's Lipton!"

I stood up and gave Shifty a clap on the shoulder. "I'm just saying you sound like my mother, Christianson." I disappeared back inside to find Gene and his lovely, lovely painkillers.

The rest of the day passed in relative silence. Having gotten my fix from Gene, I collapsed on a couch in a sitting room off the main hall and slept the rest of the day away.

I woke up just before dinner time, feeling rather sore and confused; naps always threw my brain off. Groaning, I eased my legs off the couch and stumbled out the room. I just about crashed into Lipton as blood rushed from my head, and my eyes went dark. His hands came to my shoulders, and held me steady until it passed. "Easy there."

"Thanks sir."

His fingers tapped in quick succession on my shoulder before slowly drawing toward my neck. A finger slid under a thin silver chain and pulled up, lifting what hung at the end. The round edge of a ring could be seen from where my jacket dipped in a V with the half done zipper.

"That's new."

I blushed as Lip's eyes met mine, and his hands moved away. "He asked me last night." I explained.

"Ron did seem happier…"

My smile was small, and embarrassed. "I want it to happen here. Our wedding…"

"Does he know?" A bit of surprise showed in the raise of his eyebrows, nothing else.

I shook my head. "I'll tell him tonight. Ease the idea on to him."

Lips pressed together. "It will be dangerous. With all the men, to find a priest… your Secret will get out."

I smiled easily. "Don't worry about it. I'll work it out."

"That's what I'm afraid of." He sighed.

Later that night, as I lay under a pair of silken covers, a wiry arm around my torso after a congratulatory lay, I turned to my man and whispered my intentions.

Speirs eyes flicked open and his gaze sharpened, his voice expression his disbelief. "What?"

My fingers ran down his chest. "I want to get married here."

The lone lamp in the room lit parts of his face, I could see the ill ease in the in the crinkle in the eyes. "It's too dangerous."

"I've learned to be careful."

He pressed harder, "Don't you want your family there?"

I couldn't help but grin at the cliché. "My family's all here."

"I know you have a brother."

I kissed at his neck. "I have a company full of brothers; Antoine will just have to accept that he couldn't be there. I'm sure he'll still get us a gift."

His lips pressed together and he started radiating that subtle anger. "Something's been bothering me."

It was a statement that demanded a response. An immediate one.

My breath caught in my throat. "What?"

"According to company records, you came to Easy before Market Garden, but I know that's not true. You were with us before that…somehow….Buck _knew_ you. He knew you and he never was near Able Company…"

I cut him off with a quick lie. "We met D-Day. I ended up twisting my ankle on the way down, he helped me out."

In the dark I could see his frown deepen. "If you say so."

I could feel us slipping into dangerous waters. "Speirs… love" I murmured, hands running down his skin. "Its true things happened, and it might seem that it all doesn't match up, but you have to trust me…please."

"I told you to call me Ron."

Tongue sliding over my lips, I tried to break years of mental conditioning, tried to make things right.

"Ron I love you." Each time the phrase was uttered, it became more natural, more fitting. "Please let me marry you here. I want... I want to be yours, officially yours, and I want someone to know about it."

The silence was oppressive, mentally I could see the gears grinding in his brain, weighing the options, the possibility for error, anything that might endanger what we had.

"What makes you even think Winters will let us have a wedding."

I pushed him onto his stomach and rubbed on his shoulders. "I can be highly persuasive…and we have Lipton on our side. Nobody intelligent ever says no to Mother."

That gained a smile. "Fine then, assuming this gets passed, who the hell could marry us? The company Father is out of the question, he's too attached to Sinks group…"

I worked on a knot under his shoulder, as I mulled it over. "Well, you know Titanic?"

"The ship?"

"No the movie… Yes the ship. Anyway, ship Captains can marry their passengers. Why cant an army Captain?

"You want Lewis Nixon to marry us?" The disbelief in his voice was humorous. I doubt anyone had ever thrown him for such a loop.

"Well he's a bloody captain isn't he?"

His eye roll was palpable. "Yes, I'm sure he carries a lot of holy weight."

I kissed his neck and plopped down into the pillow top mattress. "If it makes you feel better we can get married back in the States too."

"How is it you _even know this_."

I smiled into the pillow. "The internet Speirs, you'll love it when it comes out."

I woke up early the next morning and slid from the dark of the room, I struggled into my clothing and slid into the hall, making my way to where I was suppose to be bedding down. Outside the huge windows that lines the hallway, I could see the purple recesses of the new days sun as it struggled over the misty mountain tops. The azure lake has a few preemptive dazzles to it, as if rubbing sleep from its eyes.

My rubber soled boots tread heavy on the plush maroon carpet, my eyes hung low, carefully watching each step I took, I noticed the crud in the crack between floor and baseboard that vacuum cleaners didn't pick up, and no one ever really cared enough to vac up the hard way. My hand reached for a brushed bronze door knob, and I disappeared into Gene's room.

The following days took on a pattern. I would begin and end each day, in Speirs's loving arms, in the early morning I would make my way either to Luz and Malarks, or the Doc's room and sleep out the remaining few hours till reverie. After attending roll call, I would join the others at breakfast, get assigned to a low key duty, filing papers, messenger, or just as Doc's helper, as he and the other medical men evaluated the German soldiers who streamed into surrender daily. I would have the afternoons off, at Doc's demand, and I would laze around, or explore the Austrian country side with the other men, always on the look out for a bakery.

It was one such afternoon when I caught Nixon unaware.

"Sir?" I stood in the hotel Stud Room, where the officers had set up shop. All of the card tables were awash with loose papers, binders, dirty drink glasses (probably of Nixons), half overflowing ashtrays, and the general feel of concentrated planning.

The lone officer glanced up over the rim of his coffee cup with a grunt. "Yeah?"

I sat down without his approval and leaned my elbow on his desk. "I've got an idea. A crazy one." Our eyes met, both our faces as stoic as Arabic traders.

"Does this idea include anything worthwhile or are you just wasting my time."

A huge smirk crossed my face. "Alcohol, cake, and more trouble than a nun at a frat party."

His eyebrow flicked up and his interest was on me. "Now that is something I have never seen."

"Oh it's interesting for sure…But the question is how do you feel about performing matrimonial rights?"

"What?"

"I want you to marry me…"

"I know I just got a divorce and all but we don't really know each other."

"To Speirs." I clarified with an eye roll.

He snorted into his coffee. "What makes you think I can marry you?"

I looked him in the eye. "You're a Captain aren't you?"

His eyebrows scrunched. "What?"

"Ship captains can marry people…just don't worry about it." I shook my head and sighed.

He stated at me, and I pulled my eyes away. The papers ruffled some, as he shifted around for the whiskey flask that he had on the corner of his desk. Glass clinked against glass as he poured a shot. He slid it across the table to me, and our eyes met. My fingers wrapped around the cool exterior and I watched him as I raised it to my lips.

"Consider this your answer." He said, a conspirator smile warping his features.

"Thank you." I whispered, heart soaring so that it fluttered high in my throat.

The most unnerving part of our time spent in Austria, had to be the influx of German prisoners. No matter where I was in life, I would always find the sight of those grey uniforms highly unsettling. Even unarmed, walking in upon a group of German Officers waiting in the main room of the Peppermint Hotel was highly alarming. I could only be glad I didn't have my Garand on me…or I would have been Court Marshaled.

I let out a slow breath and eased my way past them, hiding my clenching fingers in the pockets of my jacket. O'Keefe was stationed by the door and he looked rather put off by the whole situation, obviously feeling the same unease as I.

I made my way up the staircase and entered the large expanse of room that the Major had taken as his office. It was a beautiful example of architect, high arching ceilings, windows with an encompassing view of the lake, and a comfortable yet buisness like interior.

I took two steps inside and came to a sharp salute. Major Winters was seated at his desk, the German general before him, his eyes flicked to me, and the mouth wavered. From what I knew of the man, he was probably appreciative of the interruption I caused.

"Yes Private Russo."

With that acknowledgement I crossed the expanse of floor and offered him the numbers scribed by Lipton an little under an hour prior.

"Lieutenant Lipton's report." I gave him one more salute and backed off. The German's eyes never left Winters face.

Time fled slowly, under the pleasant conditions of Austria, we put on weight, drank wine and hard liquor from what we had liberated from Gorging stores. Many of our nights passed in a drunken bliss, and the men stayed safe, at least until the replacements showed up.

Liebgott had been ancy for days, that insufferable feeling of anticipation playing on him harder then the rest, he took Webster, and Tab and shot and ex-German soldier, or at least, that was what I heard…

Speirs had taken me out earlier that day, a jeep ride across the mountainous country. He told Winters he needed to stop by a town a few miles away to pick up some very important something or other. Speirs told him he needed me for a more feminine look on the purchase, but Winters knew the truth. He validated the action with a roll of the eyes and a nod before returning to his morning coffee.

Trees whipped by us, and the wind tossed my shaggy hair, a reminder to get it cut. "I like Austria."

"Yes and Austria likes you." The Captain smiled over his cigarette.

"Well that's good; I've always wanted to be liked by a country." I responded just as blasé as he.

"You're saying America has no feelings for you?"

"No, I'm just saying that I'm America's boomerang. It throws me out, and I always come back."

"Well America's not the only one who wants to be rid of you." He teased.

"Even you Captain? I thought it was only Doc Roe who had had the last straw. I'll be sure to pack my bags, and take the next train outta here, as to remove myself from your sight."

His arm snaked around me shoulder, and he held me to his side for a moment. A bit of an awkward stretch for the front seats of the jeep.

"I won't make you leave so soon. Maybe after lunch…" He laughed, and then released me so we could look proper for the town of Vilach."

It was later that afternoon when Speirs and I had returned from our trip, that the replacements unloaded from their train. They were all green; none had fought, nor had been any closer to the war than England. I along with the rest of Second squad watched them with disdain as they laughed their way into the hotel. They were full of piss and vinegar, and shit of the mouth, just as O'keefe's group was. Only this time, we didn't have any war to ease that wicked taste.

They drank our spoils, entered our rooms and conversations, and badgered for our attention. They caused more then their share of troubles, and I couldn't help but wish suffering upon them.

However, there was one good thing that came on the replacement train.

"Well it's not California," A certain Lieutenant joked," But it will have to do."

My arms were tight around my adoptive brother's torso, face pressed into this chest, not caring how it looked. "It's good to see you Buck."

His arms tightened around me one last time before we separated, and I gave a proper salute.

Compton waved it off and gave my shoulder a good manly clap.

"It's about time you showed back up." George cut in as he clasped hands with the blond giant. "You won't believe what you missed."

Buck let out one of his booming laughs and settled down amongst us on the sundeck. "Alright then George, tell me about it."

"Who fuckin' cares!" Luz protested in a paradox of his earlier actions.. "What have you been up to Lieutenant o' mine?"

The words that come with Buck's look didn't need to be expressed. Nor could they be expressed, with the Winters enforced boundary between officer and men. But the response was an obvious 'fucking your mama'.

I sat down beside Compton and made a vow not to let him out of my sight.

That all came crashing down before dinner. A replacement dithered by our happy group before manning up enough to break the conversation.

"One of your Private Russo." He had a bit of a smart ass to him, but he had nothing on Cobb.

My eyes flicked up followed by a frown. "Yeah, what about it?"

Buck adjusted himself beside me and gave the new man a look.

"Your uh, Captain Welsh is looking for you, something about a runner."

I groaned as I stood, knees cracking, and pulled my rifle over my shoulder. "Alright then."

Walking through the loose circle, I passed the new man and gave him a look that said 'move along'.

I walked away from a conversation that could continue on without me.

Poker was in vogue that night. All the officers huddled around their round table, and stared as emotionlessly at the other players as necessary. I along with Winters as the only ones not invested in the game, was allowed to display a comparatively brazen amount of facial movement. After two hands, Speirs made me move from where I was sitting beside him.

I drifted listless about all of them for a time, before coming to a final resting spot caddy corner to Welsh and Buck. Nixon stared across the table at me, and asked me to pass along information with his smoldering eyes.

So far, I had managed to withstand the power of his eyebrows and loquacious glazzies. The clock ticked, and the Major reset the gramophone, Chopin made his third appearance on the set, a bit of a different sound after hearing Beethoven .

Nixon threw his cards down and money was exchanged. He leaned back in his chair for a moment before letting it crash down. "Seeing as I'm loosing I suppose now is as good a time as any."

Winters, Welsh, Speirs, Buck, Lipton and I stated at him.

The man from a town named after himself stood. "Tonight we celebrate the marriage of two poor suckers."

His eyes flicked between Ron and I. "That means you. Stand up."

I made my way over to Speirs and stood beside him. The whole scene unfolding like some crack filled fanficion.

"Get over here Buck I want you to be my Maid of Honor." I called with an obnoxious grin.

"Aren't I already Made of Honor?" He cracked like the wise ass he was, but strolled up beside me.

Nixon looked rather annoyed. "If you're done. I'd like to get this marriage over with."

Winters made a noise of protest, probably angry about being left out of the loop, or wanting to express some order over co-positional fraternization. Or quite possibly the heresy of this upcoming action.

"Right, so as I was saying, we have gathered here tonight in order to bond Ronald Speirs and Fey Russo in a holy Easy matrimony. With the rights vested in me as Captain, apparently of the ship of Easy Company, Fey Russo do you take this man to be your husband?"

I was giddy with excitement. "I do."

"and do you Ronald Speirs take this raggedy assed private…"Nixon received a bone chilling glare. "This lovely woman to be your wife."

"I do."

"Good. You may now kiss the bride."

Strong arms wrapped around my hips as he pulled me into a kiss, dipping me back amongst the claps and hollering of the offices.

When we separated, grins plastered to our faces, we all received congratulations and questions about where the wedding cake was hiding.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_The room in which we met was a soft honey color, like that of which appears on the wall as light shines through the jar. I didn't know how to take this change in appearance, but it was preferable over the usual stark white. _

_"Looks like I was wrong." Angelo shined his shit eating grin in my direction._

_"Aren't you usually?" I tossed back amiably. _

_"You're happy?"_

_"As a girl on her wedding night should be." I gave him a bit of a glare," Don't fuck it up for me." _

_My great great something or other nephew threw his hands into the air in fake exasperation. "Language!" _

_I lounged back in one of the chairs, smirking quietly. "So what do you want? I have a life to get on with..." _

_Angelo shrugged and ran a hand through his false blond locks. "I suppose I just wanted to say congratulations You managed a lot better then I expected you to." _

_My eyebrow rose, "I thought this was one of those set in stone history things. You alluded to as much."_

"_Well its not like I new that you made it without me. The future still has plenty of time to get fucked up."_

"_Language!" I gasped, placing a dramatic hand on my heart. "In front of your dear great aunt something or other too! What _would_ your mother say!"_

_Angelo grinned, "That I'm a lovely child, with a fine vocabulary, and a charming way of putting things. Don't you think?"_

_I smiled and rubbed my knee. "No doubt." Slowly I stood, one of those feelings that said it was time to go. "Well, Its been fun."_

"_You've kept me on my toes?"_

"_Isn't that my job?"_

_As I passed him on the way to the door our eyes met. Was that a bit of wetness I glimpsed on his lower eyelids? _

_"Goodbye Fey." His voice was strong. Somewhat final. _

_"Bye Angelo."I paused with the door knob turned, "Oh, and I expect a wedding present." _

I woke up the next morning with a hell of a hangover. I couldn't have been more right about the wedding being more fun than an nun at a frat party. Nixon sure new how to party hard, and then around three a.m. when some NCO's showed up at the door wondering what the hell all the noise was about, we kicked it to eleven.

You could not imagine my relief when Major Winters parted from our insanity at a respectable half past midnight.

The sun chiseled at my eyelids and I let out a groan, burying my face in the pillow. Cotton was the name of my mouth, and pounding was the action of my temples.

A thick arm wrapt around me and pulled me close.

"Go back to sleep." Ron murmured.

"I want to." I sighed. "but my hangover dosent."

"Then tell it to take a hike." He grumbled.

Smiling, I kissed his fingers.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

George looked over the passport with lucid eyes.

"Did they really think this would pass?"

I frowned through my pain headache. "Seeing as it is a _pass_port I do suppose they did."

He blew air outs his lips and imitated the German man with the bad papers. "Herr, I assure you nothing is wrong with these papers. Please Herr, my Fraulien is waiting…"

I gave a snort and gave the man a lackluster wave as he drove off with an escort of MP's. "And to think, I use to be scared of them."

George eyed me. "The MP's or the German?'

I smacked the back of his head. His hair was oddly soft. "Don't be smart."

His hand flew to his skull and rubbed the pain away. "Isn't that what you pay me for?"

I flicked him off and he laughed.

"What's got you in such a foul mood? Lover Boy not bringing you flowers?"

"I didn't know Gene was my lover boy."

He gave a bit of a chuckle at the unexpected joke.

"What about Captain Beelzebub, he been treating you good?"

My eyebrow cranked up, and I gave a bit of a laugh. "Giving Speirs nicknames now? Yah, compared to you Captain Dead Eye is a five star hotel. He sleeps quiet and he's a good lay."

It was Georges turn to smack me. "I'm a good fuck."

"How'd I know? Should I just take your word for it?"

His eyes lowered to my hidden breasts, as if trying to imagine what lay under the obscuring green. I gave a pointed grunt and his eyes flicked up and a seductive smile crossed his face. "You wanna go behind those trees and find out?" His wink was obnoxious.

I clapped him on the shoulder, and he spat out his spent cigarette. "Do you want Easy to lose its only source of entertainment to a vengeful Speirs? No chance."

"Damn." He sighed. "I could use it."

Another car came to our crossroads and I checked the passport. I waved them on and called to George. "Just wait George, when you get back to the States, the ladies won't be able to keep their hands off you."

He grinned. "You're right of course. What dame could resist this?" He gave a bit of a shimmy and paraded about in a stunning imitation of a peacock.

"I'm having a hard time containing myself." I deadpanned," If you're not careful, you may find yourself ravenged one night."

"And have to deal with Speirs afterword? No way!"

Evening had descended as the four hours of our shift was nearing its end. The jeep that came to drop off our relief was running its headlights, and it was the first car we had seen in an hour. It braked to a fast halt a few yards before us and one man stepped out.

"I'm real sorry guys." Shifty said in that bashful way of his. "I couldn't find that replacement."

I fluttered my hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it Shif', I'll stay out here with you."

George looked over his shoulder, a few steps ahead of me. "Are you sure kid?"

I flung my arm around Shifty's shoulders and gave Luz and arbitrary wave. "Get out of here."

He hopped inside the jeep, and they drove off to pick up the next set of bastards.

The night was a bit crisp; bugs making their nightly serenade, my fingers were burrowed tight in the pockets. "

"How's that point situation looking for you?" I asked breezily. Earlier that morning, the CO's let a fluffy piece of legislation fall upon our ears. There was a point system to get back home. 85 points total.

My situation was looking pretty decent, with 2 purple hearts, and 3 years of overseas service.

"Not good, 19 under." The southern boy sighed, "With my numbers I won't be home for another year."

I let out a muffled acknowledgement of how shitty that was. "Man I'm sorry." Whatever good mood I had picked up left me in a breath.

He shrugged. "Nothing you can do about it."

We settled down into our little watch post and kept an eye on the deserted road. The hours past without any noticeable difference in time, Shifty and I kept up light chatter, occasionally breaking out a deck of cards, in between very sporadic passport checks. I munched on K-rations without paying them any attention, the boy smoked a cigarette.

I heard the rumble of an engine before I saw the appearance of its headlights. The woodland noises seemed to quell beneath its quaking. The jeep came to a halt a few yards away and deposited the next round of watchmen, a pair of replacements by the bowed unsureness in the set of their shoulders.

Shifty and I past them without paying them an ounce of attention and clambered into the jeep.

"Evening Captain." Shifty greeted as he settled into the back.

I, the lucky bastard, was rewarded with shotgun. "Hello sir."

Speirs gave us a fitting greeting for our ranks and shifted the vehicle into drive. My hand automatically went for the seat belt, and I was hit by a bit of surprise when I didn't find one. Then it occurred to me that feature wouldn't become standard for quite some time.

The vibration of the engine that channeled down the lightly padded seats made my legs numb.

"Luz told me you couldn't find the other replacement, Private Powers." Speirs commented in that off handed way of his, the one where you weren't sure if he were mad at you or if he were mad at the other person.

"Yes sir," Shifty blushed, "I looked all over for him, but he never showed up."

Ron shook his head and eyed me. "Can't expect the replacements to do anything right…"

A great tremor racked the side of the jeep, the force of the hit shoving us to the side, metal crunching in upon itself, sounded not unlike heavy machinery coming to life. The road side coming to greet my face before my eyes could close; skin tore away from my face, and bare forearms, the texture of the road pulling at my rolled jacket sleeves. Glass crushed and fell to the ground. My hip struck pavement, body spiraling into the roadside ditch. I lay there crumpled, bleeding.

Yelling. Then a gunshot…the ping of bullet off metal, one more shot, a falling mass followed by a dying breath. The sound of boots stuttering, unsure footsteps of a person off balance, a hand that grabbed at my shoulder, pulling my backward into a more natural position. Making me aware of the pain.

I let out a scream. It was silent; the crash had stolen away my breath, probably crushed ribs. I struggled, a hand on my face. Voice screaming in my ear, Shifty's scratched face appeared over the green clad shoulder.

Lips moving, hands reached for me, eyes dimming, I struggled for air, nails bit into my arms. Then the words that finally formed in my ears.

"**NO! Don't do this!" **

I strained for more, headlights shined in Shifty's eyes, he looked away.

My heart clenched, stuttered.

Lips crashed upon my own, arms dragging me close.

How like a movie scene, my lips moved, breath escaping in a soft whooshing, like an owl flying onto your screen on an animal planet show.

Whoosh.

Ron's shoulder was hot against my neck; I could feel his lips moving next to my ear.

I know he said, "I love you."

**/-/-/-/-/-/-/**

**Happy Halloween!**

**I want to thank you all for sticking with me for these past 2(almost 3) years, I know it's been trying, with uneven updates (often months apart) but it's the way of life I guess, always getting in the way of things. **

**I wanted to give a special shout out ImaginingAutumn who jumped in as my beta before things got too bad. (Thanks Sam, you know I love ya!) **

**and I want to give my love to each and every one of you. You truly have no idea how your support has impacted my writing and my life. **

**Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.**

**Good news however, the **_Last_** chapter will be out later this week. **

**Thankyou **

**-hansolo18, Maria**


	24. The Verdict

_**With a total of 188 pages, I bid the adieu. **_

=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/

We buried her the following afternoon.

Sink has rushed down from CP after hearing the news of the lost soldier, burst in upon Doc Roe as he tried to clean some of the blood off the body. Scandal rocked the whole battalion. Sink called all officers to a meeting and chewed our asses.

"How the fuck did this go on!" His southern accent jumped tenfold when angry.

I was glad that it was Winters who stepped up to the plate. I don't think I could have contained myself.

"I don't think anyone knew sir." For such a strait cut man, he sure could lie. "The man we knew as Frank Russo was a good soldier, nothing more than that; you never would have guessed he was a woman. Russo was a good squad mate; he did what was expected of him, and more. I suppose Russo was just skilled at deception."

Winters's voice was strong, but sorrow laced. He had thought that since the war was over, the men would no longer die. I suppose we were all proved wrong.

Sink let out a growl and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Clean this mess up." He snarled, looking each and every one of us in the eye, "I want all records of her gone,. I want her removed from the reports, all pictures destroyed. Hell I even want her gone from the boy's minds. You bury that body here, no marker, no ceremony. Just get it done."

My lips tightened and rage welled inside me.

The colonel noticed.

"You have a problem with that Captain?"

Lipton made a noise as it to jump in but I spoke. "Russo was a good man sir. As a soldier who served since D-Day she deserves more than what you're giving her."

Sink took a sip from his drink and challenged me with his eyes. "Get it done."

We buried her under an oak tree by the lake, casket less, swaddled in her olive blanket. We held a small ceremony against Sinks orders, and most of the veterans showed up. It was easy to see who was hit the hardest. George Luz, Buck Compton, Doc Roe, Malarkey, Shifty…The boy's soul had always been gentle.

I dropped a flower into the grave and walked away. I couldn't stand to see the dirt shoved back over her body.

The soldier sat before me, a bloody mess, and my gun was pointed at his temple, the men around me silent, wondering if they would be witness to some act of Speirs, as if I were God.

The soldier started to whine, my finger tightened on the trigger, I was going to kill this sick mother fucker for what he did to Talbert. What he and others like him did to Fey, and would do to the other men of my company.

One of the men let out a shaking breath. I was scaring them. I swing my arm and cracked the butt of my pistol against his jaw. "Next time you call me sir!"

I turned away and stalked off, nobody would hurt my men again, not even me.

The war ended, and the world settled back into a peaceful state, a state I couldn't remember. I was lost along with so many other men. I was lost because I had lost too much; I had lost my men, my comrades, a loved one. I had lost myself even before D-day, when I had come to accept I was already dead.

And in spite of this chronic case, every man had one thing he could thank for bringing him back into a world without war. A good woman.

A year after the war I found myself remarried. It's not that I loved her more; it's just that she was there. I did love my new wife and I loved the kids we had. I was happy. But I never truly forgot Fey Russo.

Years past and the thought of Fey slowly went from my mind, having been replaced with family matters. 20 years after the war, Easy held a reunion; I went at my wife's prodding. On the drive back to our hotel, she expressed that she got something of an awkward feeling around some of the men, like they saw her filling in for someone else.

Through numb lips I told her she was imagining things.

+/+/+/+/+/+/+/+

It was 1997 when I saw Fey again. We met in New York City, outside a Starbucks; she was selling Girl Scout cookies.

At first, it was her hair that caught my memory, that deep dark earthy brown, the olive skin, and finally those pale green eyes. I bought a box of Tagalongs just so I could speak to her.

She was polite, her Bronx accent stronger than I remember it being as an adult. She told me about her beloved Yankees who she hoped would make it to the World Series; she was chatty in an abrupt way as a child. Fey must have been eight.

The years came and went, age seemed to do that, it's eternal speeding up of time. The giant glass ball fell for 2007 and my health seemed to fall with it.

As I lay dying, my mind returned to that grave by the lake, Sink had said no markers but Luz had made one from her rifle and helmet as was fitting for one lost in combat.

Quietly, I desired the same.

* * *

**-Thank you.**


End file.
